The Justice of Clan Tahl
by Denisea
Summary: The sequel to "Skywalker's Legacy," "Prophecy's Child," and "The Face in the Shadows." Brenna goes to Sarcopia to face trial for murdering the old man on Croyus Four. But the Sarcopian justice system takes victim's rights to the extreme, and Luke will go to any lengths to make sure no harm comes to her. Resolves the Luke/Brenna tension.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_

_I do not own any part of the Star Wars franchise or any of its characters. I have not been paid for any of the stories posted on FanFiction or elsewhere. What you read here are simply the products of my own imagination based on the universe created by George Lucas ._

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_Author's Note: _

_This is actually the fourth story in my "Brenna" series (after "Skywalker's Legacy" posted by me as Nadahnefu, then "Prophecy's Child," then "The Face in the Shadows.") There is also the "prequel" to my little series, published in FFN by me under the pen name "DeniseH" (ran out of available document space under "Denisea") and entitled "The Legion Renewed." So if you want to read that backstory, go look for it under "DeniseaH"._

_And, as always, if you like any of my stories, a review is much appreciated. And if you don't like it, well..._

_This story is probably my favorite. I might mention that I have a personal connection to "victim's rights." The son of my Mom's best friend (a nice kid, who tried to teach me how to do flips off a diving board), along with another teen, was murdered many years ago. The killer was caught and sentenced to "life," but every now and then comes up for parole review. My Mom's friend was instrumental in getting the voice of the victim's family heard at the parole hearings, and has the pen used to sign that into law. She still makes her voice heard whenever the murderer becomes eligible for parole, and the killer is still sitting in jail._

_Of course, Brenna's situation is different. But I got to thinking, what would happen if a society's whole justice system was based on victim's rights, and that's basically how this story came about. It was always intended to be the end of my little series, but then I started coming up with other ideas: "Shadows of the Mind," which brings back Elaan; "The Healing Circle," which brings back Jenin; "The Wizard of Kastral," which is solely about Jenin (and her new apprentice, no Luke or Brenna); and "Slaver's Grip," which introduces a couple of new characters and explores somewhat the idea that Rupert has some siblings out there. But these stories aren't anywhere closed to finished yet. "The Justice of Clan Tahl," however, has been finished for a long time, even read by a friend or two, but hitherto unpublished..._

_I hope you enjoy._

_-Denisea_

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Prologue**

Brenna closed her eyes and waited for the knock she was expecting. Another spasm came over her, but the pain was not great. Then it passed, and the knock came.

"Enter," Brenna said, and Devon Martuk came into the room. Fortunately, she didn't have to stand up. One wasn't expected to stand with a belly the size of a matra fruit.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked.

She indicated the computer on her desk. "I've prioritized the financial needs of the Center for you. If you follow the list in that order, you should be able to handle things fairly well."

Devon looked at it, then said, "The engineers have finished their report. They say that the ground has shifted under Building Nine, and it needs a new foundation before it collapses."

"Then put that at the top of the list."

"Before the communications equipment?"

Brenna sighed. "It won't do us much good to have the equipment if we don't have a place to put it."

He hesitated. "What if something else comes up that's not on your list?"

"Then use your best judgment. You can handle it."

"You'd handle it better."

"Look, Devon, stop arguing with me. I have to do this."

"No. You have to have a baby. You don't have to take off for Deities know where, for Deities know how long."

"Never mind. I don't expect you to understand. Ask Norla to get me a secure com-line as soon as one is available on your way out, would you?"

"Sarcopia?"

She gave him a look that challenged him to argue with her. "Yes."

Martuk knew better than to try to get her to listen to reason. He simply nodded and started back for the door.

The cramping came over her again.

"Devon?" Brenna said, her tone stopping him in his tracks.

Devon Martuk turned and saw her fingers tightened convulsively on the arms of the chair "Are you all right?" he asked.

Brenna nodded. "Fine. But you're right about one thing. I am going to have this baby. Would you do me another favor?"

"Anything." Martuk said.

"Would you...track down Rupert and my father, and have them meet me at the med-center, please? You can take me as soon as I finish sending my message. The baby's coming..."

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter One**

Han Solo, the second in his family to bear that name, was born at twenty-thirteen standard time on standard calendar date 4590417. The delivery was classified as "normal," although, in fact, it was actually the first delivery to occur on Croyus Four since the native life had been wiped out in the Clone Wars. Neither mother nor baby suffered any undue complications, but the mother insisted that the baby's medically monitored crib be placed next to her own bed. She spent every moment she could with her newborn son, to the point where the infant actually spent very little time in the crib. Typically, the medical staff could only take him from his mother's arms when she was asleep. She even insisted upon changing all the diapers herself.

The baby's father, too, spent most of his time in the room, leaving only when the hospital staff insisted. Only the grandfather kept to regular visiting hours.

There were very few patients at the med-center, and so it was not difficult for the mother's husband and father to convince her doctors to keep her at the med-center longer than usual rather than send her home as soon as one might ordinarily expect, especially when a whisper or two about the reasons to keep her and a little pressure from Dr. Tibbik were applied. But eventually, her body healed itself of the worst of the ravages of childbirth, and the doctors could no longer find excuses to keep her there. As Brenna packed the few belongings she had brought with her, the baby lay sleeping in his hospital crib for perhaps the longest time during the mother's waking hours since he had been born.

Rupert watched her until she was finished closing the small travel bag, and stood up to face him. He held out to her a small box. She looked at it, then at him.

"It's for you," he said.

She took it, raised the lid slowly. Inside was a gold heart on a gold chain. She lifted it out of the case by the chain, letting the heart dangle. The chain was a simple chain, but the heart had a delicate filigree design. "It's beautiful," she said softly.

"Look inside."

It was a locket. She found the latch mechanism and used her fingernail to activate it. It would not come open accidentally.

The two halves of the heart, joined by miniature hinges, lay on her open palm. Inside there was a tiny braid, painstakingly woven from three small locks of hair. She recognized the locks without having to ask: the dark, thicker strands had come from Rupert; the silver-and-white strands had come from her father; and the fine, soft reddish-gold strands had come from the baby. Brenna touched the braid, then looked back up at her husband. Three small locks of hair. Three large reasons not to go.

"Stay?" Rupert begged.

"I can't."

It was the same answer she always gave.

She looked down at the locket in her hand, closed it, and then stretched up to kiss her husband. There was more meaning in the kiss than a simple thank-you for the present. It was a good-bye, as well.

She broke the kiss off first, then held the necklace out to him. "Would you put it on for me?"

She turned her back to him and lifted her hair with her hands, and so did not see the grim expression on her husband's face as he fastened the chain around her neck.

But Rupert's father-in-law saw, and laid a reassuring hand on the younger man's arm. Luke dropped the hand as Brenna turned back around.

"Thank you," Brenna said simply. Then she went to the crib and picked up the baby with practiced movement. The infant stirred, but did not awaken. Luke picked up her bag and the baby's carryall, and waited. Rupert could do little except follow his wife out of the room. He didn't try to take the baby from her, but caught up with her and put a hand around her waist.

Outside of the med-center, Devon Martuk was waiting with the ground-transport, one of the few such vehicles actually on Croyus Four. It held two occupants per seat. Luke put the bags he was carrying into the boot, and moved to the front with Martuk. Rupert helped Brenna into the next seat back with the baby, and climbed in after her. Martuk activated the passenger restraining system, and pulled away from the med-center, heading for the docking bay.

Not one word was spoken on the trip. It had all been said already. Martuk took them right to the _Millenium Falcon_'s gangplank, and stopped.

Brenna allowed herself to be helped out of the transport, but stopped at the bottom of the gangplank, turned, kissed her husband, and carefully transferred the baby to his arms.

Luke, meanwhile, had taken her bag from the boot. The baby's carryall he left. Little Han would not be going with his mother on this trip.

Brenna started to take her bag from him when he got to the gangplank, but he held onto it.

"You need a pilot," Luke said. "Your doctor hasn't cleared you for flying yet, especially not for a long distance trip like one to Sarcopia."

"Devon said he'd get me a pilot," she said.

"So he has. I'm qualified."

"You still won't be allowed into the Chamber of Councils."

"You still need a pilot," Luke reminded her.

She shrugged. "I guess I've got one."

"Why don't you start warming her up, while I do a quick inspection?"

Luke, Rupert, and Devon watched her go up the ramp to the interior of the ship.

Rupert handed the baby into Devon Martuk's somewhat awkward arms, and accompanied Luke to the underbelly of the _Falcon_. "I wish we could stop her."

Luke jiggled a connection, found it tight. "Me, too, Rupert, but I don't think we can."

"She can do a Hell of a lot more good working as the administrator of a rescue facility than rotting in some prison in the middle of nowhere."

"I'm open to any ideas you might have on how to get her to change her mind."

"I know I promised I wouldn't interfere, but...couldn't we just hog-tie her and take her to some nice, quiet, out-of-the-way little asteroid?"

Luke understood Rupert's emotions. Like himself, his son-in-law had never approved this quest of Brenna's, and now that zero hour had arrived, he liked it even less. Knowing Rupert, he'd probably been serious about hog-tying Brenna. "We could, but I think her private demons would follow us, no matter how far we traveled or how well we tried to hide our tracks."

"At least it might buy us some time. She's going through that post-partum depression thing, right? Once she's had a chance to get used to the baby, and us being a family…"

"Your son is too young to go planet-hopping," Luke pointed out, interrupting him, and ignoring the fact that Brenna's decision had been made when she first decided to keep the baby, well before post-partum. "And I don't think Brenna's going to let herself get used to being part of a family until this thing is behind her." He checked a suspicious-looking panel, but it was secure. That was the thing about the _Falcon_. It looked like it was all going to fall apart any second, but she was, in fact, very solid.

"I don't trust Sarcopian justice. Everything I've read says that their punishments are extremely severe."

"She has to be convicted first."

"I wish I had your faith. But why does it have to be you who goes with her? Why don't _you_ stay and take care of the baby, and _I'll_ fly her to Sarcopia. It _is_ my ship, you know."

Luke turned and regarded him calmly. "There are three reasons why I should be the one to go with her. First, Han is _your_ son. He's not _my_ responsibility. Second, he needs at least one of his parents with him, and he's too young to be spacing. Third, and most important, I have connections on Sarcopia that you don't."

"What do you mean?"

"A friend who can get me into the Chamber of Councils. I've already contacted him. He's expecting me."

Rupert stared at him for a moment, then asked, "Does Brenna know?"

"Do you think she'd let me pilot her, if she did?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't want to put you in the awkward position of having to keep a secret from your wife. This way you can truthfully say you didn't know anything about it until it was too late to tell her."

"Do you really think this friend of yours can help?"

"Sah'vo owes me a big favor. He's promised me all the resources of his clan, of which I intend to take full advantage, to see that justice is served. He says that the two things Sarcopians pride themselves on the most are their honesty and their fairness, and we can be certain that Brenna will get a fair hearing."

"Luke…according to what I was able to find out, the last time someone was convicted of murder on Sarcopia, the prisoner was starved to death."

"I know."

"If Brenna is convicted….I don't even want to think about it."

"Me, either, Rupert." Luke's inspection was finished. He clapped Rupert on the shoulder and headed back towards the gangplank, holding the younger man back from entering the ship with a firm pressure. He traded final looks with Rupert, then headed up the gangplank to take his daughter to her murder trial.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Two**

Brenna waited with a patience Luke couldn't help but admire. She said nothing, and Luke didn't try to break the silence. She remained seated on the bench until the white, unmarked shuttle landed right in front of them.

Finally, Brenna said, "I think this is my ride," and stood up with a restraining hand on Luke's shoulder to keep him from accompanying her any further. She took a step towards the white-uniformed officers that came out of the shuttle, then on an impulse turned back and leaned down and kissed Luke on the cheek.

"Take care of Rupert for me," she whispered. It was the only indication she'd given that she thought she might not return home. Then she straightened and walked calmly toward the transport again.

Luke rose to his feet and watched as the white-uniformed Sarcopians put binders on Brenna's wrists and escorted her into the transport, and remained watching until the shuttle lifted and was out of sight.

Then, with Brenna safely delivered to Council Security, he turned and strode rapidly out of the square.

He had his own appointment to keep.

The cantina was not as noisy as the ones on Tatooine usually were, probably because the patrons weren't drunk. He knew from reputation that cantinas on Sarcopia were more for socializing than for drinking. However, it was as poorly lit as the ones on Tatooine, and Luke had some trouble locating the person he was looking for. Of course, the fact that it had been Brenna's lifetime and then some since he had last seen Sah'vo didn't help matters any, either.

But Luke himself stood out like a sore thumb on this world, and a man at one of the tables stood up and waved madly as soon as he saw Luke.

The Sarcopian bowed as Luke approached the table. He wore a colored badge on his clothes, the usual token of clan membership, with the specific colors of red and blue as opposed to any of the other color combinations on the token badges throughout the room. Otherwise, he was dressed as any city-dweller might be dressed. Sah'vo made the Sarcopian sign for greeting, hand over his heart with a slight bow, which Luke returned. Then the two men shook hands.

Sah'vo was only a few years younger than Luke, but he looked at least a decade Luke's junior. He had the same black, wavy hair that most Sarcopians possessed, along with a moustache that he had not worn when Luke had first known him. His skin was brown, like most Sarcopians, and he had deep brown eyes. When he spoke, it was with an accent, though here it was Luke who had the accent.

"My friend, Luke!" Sah'vo beamed. "It is so good to see you again! But of course–––" Sah'vo's face fell, "–––not under these present circumstances. Otherwise I would be most delighted to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, Sah'vo."

"Would you like something?" Sah'vo asked, indicating the seat opposite himself. "You are my guest, of course."

"Thank you, no," Luke answered, taking the seat. "Just what you have to tell me."

Sah'vo took a sip of his drink, then leaned back and shook his head. "My friend, I have spoken with my uncle, who has spoken directly with the eldress of Clan Tahl, and the Chief of Council Security. They have both said the same thing. This is a very sad business. Your daughter has confessed, unofficially, of course, to the murder of Tahl BaCher, the former elder of the Clan Tahl. At this point, that is all they know, but it is enough. It will be left to the Clan Tahl to decide her punishment."

"But she has to be convicted first, right?"

"True, but she is confessed by her own mouth. I think it unlikely for her confession to change. All that remains is to learn the circumstances surrounding the murder, which will help Clan Tahl in forming their decision as to a fitting penalty."

"As I told you in my message, the circumstances surrounding Brenna's actions at that time were most extenuating."

"Then of course those circumstances must be revealed at her trial. My friend, the best thing for you to do is to allow your daughter Brenna to go before the Council unhindered, and tell the truth. When she is convicted–––"

"_If_," Luke corrected.

Sah'vo gave a patient nod. "_If_," he agreed. "But it is the Council's duty merely to determine innocence or guilt. That is all."

Luke shook his head. "Sarcopia has a reputation for dealing rather harshly with anyone convicted of a crime. I intend to prove that she's innocent. She _is_ innocent, just as you were."

"Yet she says that she is not. Therefore, one of you must be mistaken, and since you were not present at the event–––"

Luke interrupted. Sah'vo was a good man, but he had an annoying habit of talking non-stop once he got started. "–––Just…get me into the Chamber of Councils. Once I'm on the witness stand, I'll take it from there."

"I am sorry, my friend, but you were not present when the incident in question occurred, and you will not be permitted to enter the Chamber of Councils as a witness."

Luke's eyes narrowed. "Sah'vo, I have to get in there."

Sah'vo blinked. "I must apologize if I implied that you would not be permitted to enter the Chamber of Councils at all. Forgive me, my friend, I had no intention of doing so. Of course you may enter the Chamber of Councils. But you may not speak not as a witness."

Luke relaxed a little, hearing that he would indeed gain access to the Chamber. "How do I get in, then?"

"This is a most unusual case. You are an outsider, but you are also the elder of your clan. Your daughter stands as the one accused. Once she acknowledges that you are her elder, you will be permitted to attend the trial." Sah'vo leaned back with a smile that seemed to indicate that he thought all would be well.

"Will I be allowed to speak on her behalf?"

"As I said already, you were not a witness to the act. Therefore–––"

"That's unacceptable." Luke interrupted

Sah'vo went on, unperturbed by the interruption. "However, it is certainly your right to petition the Clan Tahl to act as an Inquisitor. Unless speaking as a witness for the event in question, a member of the accused clan may not speak, unless as an Inquisitor. The Eldress of Clan Tahl may give permission for you to act as such, if you can convince her that the entire truth would not otherwise be revealed. But you must abide by our laws."

"What are these laws?"

"You may ask questions, only. Or repeat what a witness has spoken. You may not add anything to the case beyond that." Sah'vo moved his chair to sit closer to Luke. "You cannot speak on her behalf. However, if you can ask the right questions..."

Luke nodded and finished the statement. "I might be able to get her to speak on her own behalf."

"Correct," Sah'vo said, and smiled.

"What about the rest?" Luke asked. "I'm going to need someone to help me with your customs."

Sah'vo's smile became a grin. "That, my friend, is where I may provide perhaps the greatest service. Permission has been given for you to communicate with a customs advisor, a native Sarcopian of your choice who is in good standing with his clan. I may not enter the Chamber of Councils with you, but if you will permit me to be your advisor, it would be my great honor to serve you." Sah'vo inclined only his head, but it gave the impression of a formal bow.

"I can think of no one else I'd rather have," Luke said. "But something may come up that you can't prepare me for beforehand. I'm going to need someone who knows what's going on, who can sit next to me and whisper in my ear."

"Ah!" Sah'vo reached under the table and pulled out a large leather satchel. Luke wondered if it was the same one he had known Sah'vo to carry some twenty-odd years ago. It looked about as old. Sah'vo reached into the pack and rummaged around for something. "Permit me to finish what I was saying. As I mentioned, I cannot enter the Chamber of Councils. Nor would it be possible for me to sit beside you if I could enter. But–––ah, here it is." He pulled out a communications headset and handed it to Luke. "But I may listen to what goes on, and you may ask me any question you wish at any time during the trial, and I will whisper the answers in your ear."

Luke smiled. "I knew I could count on you. Thank you, Sah'vo."

"No, no. It is _I_ who should thank _you_, for this chance to serve you in some small way, after what you did for me. I have done nothing, except talk to my uncle, Sah'det, who is the elder of my clan and is most grateful to you for proving the innocence of his beloved nephew."

"I did not wish to see an innocent man punished."

"Nor did I. Especially since that man was _me_. Now, my friend, there is much you must understand before you enter the Chamber of Councils."

"Such as?"

"First, you must know that the Chamber of Councils is the most sacred and holy of places. It is where our laws are made, and where unhappy incidents between clans are resolved. You must take a sacred oath to honor the truth and obey our laws before you may enter. There are many chambers, and more than one meeting may take place at a time, and the clan elder may designate someone to attend any meeting in his or her stead. However, since your daughter's situation is most serious, and she is an outsider besides, I have learned that the trial is to take place within the Great Chamber itself, which is reserved for matters of grave importance. I suspect that all the chief elders will be in attendance for this trial themselves. You understand that murder occurs but very rarely here. I myself was very surprised when I traveled off world and learned how commonplace it is elsewhere. Little did I know that I would be caught up in such a tragedy, and that my word would not be believed except by another traveler like myself…"

Luke sighed. If he had more time, he might listen to Sah'vo's reminiscences, but... "Could we get back to Brenna, please?"

"Yes, yes. I talk too much. I must apologize, my friend."

"Brenna–––?"

"Of course, of course. To continue, the Chamber of Councils is most holy and sacred, and–––"

"And I have to take a solemn oath to honor the truth and obey your laws. Got it. What else?"

"The clan to which the deceased belonged was the Clan Tahl. The eldress of the clan–––or actually, I should say, Eldress Tah'at–––will most certainly be in attendance, along with any five members of her clan she chooses to bring with her. She is a very hard woman, hard to members of her own clan, and especially hard to outsiders. However, she is also fair, and she will wish to be judged as fair by her fellow Councilmembers. She offered no objections to my uncle's petition to allow you into the Chamber of Councils as the elder of your clan. She will listen with an open mind, even though it was her husband who was killed."

"Back up a second," Luke interrupted. "This Eldress Tah'at, it was her _husband_ who died?"

"That is what I said, yes. If Brenna is found guilty, Eldress Tah'at will discuss with her clan an appropriate punishment, and it will be by her order that the punishment is carried out."

"I intend to make sure Brenna is not found guilty," Luke said firmly. He was even more determined now that he know that the one who would have the most influence in determining Brenna's punishment was also the one who had the most cause to hate her.

"And I wish you the best of luck, my friend. But I tell you this to prepare you. Anything that is outside of the standard rules of the Council must meet with her approval. She will not be easy to persuade. However–––" Sah'vo nodded to the communications headset, "–––it was apparently not so difficult to get her permission for that. But because you will be wearing it, she will have little tolerance for deviation from our customs."

"Thanks for the warning," Luke murmured.

"You are most welcome. Now, since Brenna is the only witness, the only other person you need be made aware of by name is Elder Nah'wor. He is the moderator of the Council, the elder of Clan Nahm, elected as moderator by the other elders and eldresses. There has never been reason to doubt his impartiality or his fairness, even in matters involving his own clan. Only a few times has he asked for the vice-moderator to act in his stead, and those were due to illness. I say this to reassure you, not because there has ever been cause to doubt our moderators. But you are an outsider, and perhaps you do not understand that the trial will be very fair."

Luke waved above the surface of the table. "Sah'vo, can I get the condensed version, please? There isn't much time."

"Yes, yes. Forgive me."

Luke forestalled further apology by asking, "How do I petition to become an Inquisitor?"

"Why, you must simply ask, that is all. Once your place within the Council is established, it is your right to petition to act as an Inquisitor. Provided Eldress Tah'at approves the petition, you will be allowed to ask your questions."

"Wait a minute," Luke said. "Why does she have to approve my petition?"

"Hers is the clan that was wronged. But once it is acknowledge that you are the elder of your clan, it is highly unlikely that she would _not_ approve. It is customary for an elder of the clan of the witness to act as such. On the other hand, it is _not_ customary for outsiders to enter the Great Council. It is possible that she could refuse your petition, but…"

"That doesn't seem very fair to me. She's not exactly an impartial party."

"My friend, it is precisely because of her involvement in this case which gives her the right to approve or reject a petition. But as I said, it is highly unlikely that she would _not_ approve your petition. If, however, you are still worried about this, let me set your mind at rest. If she does not approve your petition, and there seems to be cause why you should act as an Inquisitor, the Moderator may call for a vote, and the Council itself may overrule her decision. At the same time, the Council does not like to waste time. If it is felt that you are simply wasting the Council's time with your questions, Eldress Tah'at may at any time ask that you be removed from the office. Again, if the Moderator feels there may be cause for retaining you, a vote would be taken. But do not forget that it is the Clan Tahl who will decide Brenna's punishment if she is found guilty. It would be better by far to have the approval of Eldress Tah'at in your petition, since she would certainly be more kindly disposed towards you."

"And towards Brenna?"

Sah'vo assented that with a nod. "She is part of your clan. How you conduct yourself will be reflected upon her, and her behavior will likewise reflect upon you. My friend, murder is no honorable thing, but better by far to acknowledge the deed and submit to the justice of the wronged clan than to hide the act or the guilt. The fact that Brenna has come of her own accord speaks as much for her as it can. It shows that there is a measure of honor still within her, and that cannot but reflect upon your clan. Do not give the Council or Clan Tahl cause to doubt that honor, as I am certain you will not, and you will have your–––if I remember and understand the off-world idiom correctly–––your 'day in court'?"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Three**

Apparently, for any gathering at the Chamber of Councils, the Sarcopians wore full clan colors, not just the token badges. The result was a bright, garish clash of colors that was hard on the eyes of an outsider, but the Sarcopians seemed not to notice.

Per Sah'vo's advice, Luke selected a color for his own clan. Since Luke's "clan" was not registered formally with the Council, he had the choice of selecting any combination of colors not otherwise on record. He asked, and found that, although gray was used in several combinations for clan colors, no clan had ever chosen solid gray. Apparently, it was too dull for Sarcopian tastes. Luke dressed himself in solid gray clothing. He didn't even have to go shopping. He had everything he needed right in the _Falcon_, including a gray hooded cloak. The only thing he had to obtain, per Sah'vo's suggestion, was a solid gray token badge to give to Brenna to wear once she had acknowledged him as her clan Elder, and Sah'vo's uncle took care of that for Luke.

Before the Council was brought to order, a middle-aged man dressed in flowing purple and green and blue introduced himself to Luke as Elder Nah'wor, and led Luke to a table near the top-center of the audience area.

The Great Chamber itself was a huge room, extending in about a 270 degree semi-circle, with rows of seats fronted by tables that curved to match the bend of row, broken only by regular aisles of stairs. The remaining section had no chairs or rows, just a high, flat wall behind what was the central staging area. The space in front of the wall was a half-circle towards which all the chairs and tables faced. There was a door on each side of the staging area, each guarded by a white-uniformed sentinel, and a raised dais. On the dais, facing the audience, was a semi-circular desk. This, Sah'vo had already told Luke, showing him on public library images of the Great Chamber, was where Brenna would sit. At the edge of the staging area was a border of a three-foot high stone wall that separated the staging area from the rest of the arena. This was broken only by a space in the center. All of the aisles converged to the area just behind the break, on the "spectator" side. They looked like the spokes of a wheel that didn't quite meet at the center. At the top of each aisle was a door by which the clan representatives entered and left, and each of these, like the two doors in the staging area, had a white-uniformed guard standing next to it. Council Security, Sah'vo had told Luke, was mostly just a formality. However, the guards were carefully selected and trained, and it was a requirement that part of the training occur off world "so that they may learn how less honorable peoples behave," Sah'vo had said. It was a great honor to become a member of Council Security, or to be selected for any job related to the Council Government, for that matter, and job duties were taken very seriously.

At the top of the center aisle was the large desk where Nah'wor had led Luke. Sah'vo explained that for matters of deciding law and policy, the Moderator sat at the dais at the bottom-center of the chamber, but in circumstances involving testimony, it was the witness who sat on the dais.

Nah'wor's table at the top of the center aisle had three seats. Nah'wor sat in the center. The Elder motioned for Luke to sit at his right, and an old woman, whom Nah'wor introduced as Tah'at, Eldress of Clan Tahl, sat to Nah'wor's left. There were five other chairs, not behind the desk, to Tah'at's left, occupied by others in a solid sea-foam green color. Tah'at glanced at Luke when her name was spoken, then sat down and stared straight ahead. With deliberate movement, she picked up the headset on the table and put it on. Luke was already wearing his under his hood. All of the Councilmembers had headsets, equipped with microphones for addressing the Council and which Nah'wor could control from a panel on his table. A computer kept track of the queue, if any, of Councilmembers who wished to be recognized to receive the floor.

Luke tried to measure Tah'at. Her face was old and creased, set in a deep frown. Her bottom lip trembled, but it was from age rather than weakness. She was strong-minded, strong-willed, and Luke doubted she would be susceptible to any sort of mental suggestion. A quick experiment with the thought of thirst and the untouched glass of water on the table before the woman confirmed the suspicion.

Nah'wor put on his headset with a less theatrical motion than Tah'at and called the Council to order by rapping a ceremonial gavel on an electronic pad. The pad triggered both the light and sound system, so that the Chamber lighting momentarily darkened, and a sustained tone rang throughout the room. By the time the tone faded and the lighting had returned to full luminance, the Sarcopians who had not yet taken their seats had found their seats, and all talking ceased.

"We are here," Nah'wor began, "to pass judgement on one who, by her own mouth, confesses to the crime of murdering Tahl BaCher, known by his common name of Tah'cher, former Elder of Clan Tahl. Also present is Eldress Tahl NorAt, now known by her common name of Tah'at, formerly of Clan Sarn but joined to Clan Tahl by marriage. Tahl NorAt was wife to Tahl BaCher. Eldress Tah'at will act as chief representative of her clan in this matter, as she has done in other matters before this Council. I am Nahm TolWor, chief representative of Clan Nahm, known by my common name of Nah'wor. I myself will act as Moderator. If there are any present who can give good reason why we should not continue with these Council proceedings as they now stand, let that one speak now."

Luke was silent. In a New Republic court of law, Brenna's lawyer would have objected to Tah'at's presence as the prosecuting representative because of her connection to the victim, but Sah'vo had explained to him that on Sarcopia, it was precisely because of this connection that made it her right to be there. If he objected to her presence, it was very likely that the Clan Tahl and the Council would refuse his petition to act as Inquisitor. And since his own status as Brenna's clan Elder had not yet been established, he really had no voice anyway.

When there was no objection, Nah'wor continued. "Very well. Let the witness be brought in."

Luke pulled his hood down lower over his face. He didn't want Brenna to see him just yet. His plan was to let her say what she had come to say, let her get it out of her system, and then get her the Hell out of here.

The white-clad sentry guarding the door to the right of the staging area turned and opened the door. Luke had been told that there was a quiet room where a witness waited until called to give testimony, and it took only a moment for another guard to escort Brenna through the door into the Chamber.

She was dressed in white, the color of the Great Council, in a simple shift that was standard Sarcopian prison-wear for women, except that Luke caught a glint of the gold chain at the side of her neck. She must have tucked her heart locket inside the shift.

Sah'vo had told him that if Brenna were convicted, the Clan Tahl would probably dress her in the same type of outfit, but in the clan's own seafoam-green color. Unless the Clan Tahl decided to make her go completely without clothing, that was. It had happened, Sah'vo informed him with a shrug. Not that Luke cared all that much about dress, but he took the symbolism seriously enough to follow Sah'vo's advice and have the gray badge made for Brenna to wear during the trial. But to Luke, the white shift was not a symbol of the clanlessness of the Great Council; it was more a symbol of purity, and Brenna looked like an angel.

Because he was expecting it, he saw her start with surprise and uneasiness when she saw the size of the chamber and of the crowd. He knew she'd been expecting to simply give a statement and be done with it. But she covered it up quickly, glanced at her guard for direction, and calmly took the place he indicated behind the circular desk at the dais. Good for you, Luke thought to himself. Don't let them see how nervous you are.

Nah'wor spoke. The huge, crowded chamber was otherwise silent. Every ear waited to hear what would be said.

"You have come to the Great Council Chamber of our world, to speak of matters which concern one of our Elders, Elder Tahl BaCher, known as Tah'cher. Do you come of your own will?"

"I do," Brenna answered clearly.

"And do you swear that you will only speak words of truth while you are within these walls, and that you will honor the truth as it is spoken by others?"

"I do," she repeated.

"Very well. Please tell us who you are, including your clan name, and say what you have come to say." Having given the floor to Brenna, Nah'wor switched his microphone off. Luke's microphone would only tie into the Chamber sound system when Nah'wor activated it, which would not happen until until the Clan Tahl gave permission for it to be turned on, or until Luke was otherwise confirmed as an Inquisitor. In the meantime, he could only use it to talk to Sah'vo. Tah'at's microphone was live, and would remain so throughout the trial unless a Council vote caused Nah'wor to turn it off. It was a rather unique twist on victim's rights.

"My name is Brenna Brellis, and I–––" she didn't even get the first sentence out before a low murmur filled the chamber. Most of the Councilmembers knew of Luke's petition to act as Brenna's Elder, and the name "Brenna Brellis" probably caused a lot of the comments, as well.

She hesitated, confused.

In Luke's ear, Sah'vo's voice asked, "Why does she not give the name 'Skywalker', since that is her clan name? Oh, my friend, this is very bad."

Luke ignored him.

Tah'at leaned forward and covered her microphone, the only live one at the table. She looked past Nah'wor and addressed Luke. "It seems she does not acknowledge your clan name. Therefore you have no right to be here."

"If you will allow me to act as Inquisitor when she's finished," Luke said, "I think I can straighten this out."

"The acceptance of an Inquisitor, if any, is the right of the Clan Tahl. You are not even the acknowledged Elder of your clan. I could have you removed immediately, if I so choose."

Nah'wor turned to Tah'at. "These are outsiders. Although the man has one of our own to advise him of our customs, the woman does not. She perhaps does not understand our ways. Before I have him removed, I would hear from her own mouth that she does not claim kinship to him. Shall I ask her now?"

"Look," Luke said, "Brenna doesn't even know I'm up here. What harm could it do to let her have her say, and then let me ask her some clarifying questions when she's done? I won't do anything to interfere with her testimony in the meantime."

The old woman looked from Luke down to the confused young woman on the witness stand, then back to Luke, and finally to Nah'wor. "Very well," she said. "The Clan Tahl will allow the presence of the one called Luke Skywalker, but it is an allowance only. We ask that the Council not acknowledge his presence as a right until such time as the witness acknowledges him as her clan Elder. In the meantime, the Clan Tahl would hear what the witness has to say, and we reserve the right to choose our own Inquisitor if we decide that one is called for, and to refuse the petition of any who wish to act as such, if we feel it is unwarranted."

"Fine," Luke said. "As long as you give me the opportunity to show that my petition _is_ warranted."

Tah'at uncovered her microphone and leaned back in her seat, looking pleased with herself. She had just diminished Luke's status, in such a way that no one could accuse her of being unfair. And Luke, for his part, had just arranged to keep his presence hidden from Brenna until he was ready to reveal himself.

Nah'wor activated his microphone. "Councilmembers will please remain silent for the duration of the testimony."

The murmuring immediately ceased. Brenna seemed uncertain of what to do.

Nah'wor spoke again. "The Council apologizes to the witness for the interruption. Please tell us again who you are, and say what you have to say concerning the death of Tahl BaCher, known as Tah'cher."

Brenna took another deep breath. "My name is Brenna Brellis," she repeated. This time there was not even a whisper of reaction from her audience. "I've come to tell you that I am the one who killed Tahl BaCher, known as Tah'cher." She sat back against her seat, as if that was all there was to say.

"See what I mean?" Luke whispered to Tah'at. "Don't you want to hear all the circumstances surrounding Tah'cher's death?"

Tah'at leaned forward, acknowledging neither Luke nor his words, acting as her own Inquisitor. "The Clan Tahl would know more than that. What were the events leading to this action? Tell us now, and leave nothing out."

Brenna leaned forward again, calmly. She had been waiting to tell this story. More than that, she _needed_ to tell it. She had not been able to tell the whole story to Luke, to Rupert, or even to Dr. Tibbik. But she could tell it to this crowded audience of strangers.

"At the time of Tah'cher's death," Brenna began, "I was a guest of Etan Lippa on Croyus Four. I do not know the entire circumstances of how Etan captured Tah'cher, except that it happened during a raid on Antaab. At the time in question, I had only limited access to the Croyus Four facility. But I was beginning to find my way into the unauthorized sections undetected.

"It was on one of these trips–––I was going to the detention area–––when I heard a scream coming from one of the interrogation rooms. When I investigated, I found Etan in the process of torturing Elder Tah'cher. I didn't know what Tah'cher's name was at the time. Etan told me that he was selling defense systems to some of the outer-rim worlds. The computer data I accessed later said that he had been captured during a raid on Antaab, but neither Etan nor the computer could give me his name. I didn't learn that until my inquiries on Antaab led to my relatively recent contact with the Sarcopian authorities here."

She took another breath and went on. "I wanted to stop Etan Lippa from continuing to hurt Tah'cher, but I was too afraid. Instead, I...stopped the old man's screams by...by stopping him. I killed Tah'cher. And...I'm sorry."

Brenna was done, now. She took another deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave her, and looked up at the table at the top of the aisle. She could barely make out the three figures at the table the top of the center aisle. She assumed the one on the right was Tah'at, with whom she had communicated prior to her arrival here, and the man sitting in the center was the Sarcopian equivalent of a judge. The hooded man on the other side of the judge was a mystery to her. Nobody had told her anything about him. Perhaps he was an executioner. Well, that was fine. She hadn't known peace since that day, and if the only way to find it was through death, then so be it. She was ready.

The murmuring started again. Luke drew in a deep breath himself. She still hadn't told everything, only the parts that haunted her, and a few unimportant details, but what she wanted to tell was told. He wondered if a New Republic jury would be able to convict her based on the limited information she had just given. In this Chamber of Councils, where it was merely a question of determining innocence or guilt, it was a sure bet they'd find her guilty.

"Eldress Tah'at," he said quietly, so he wouldn't be picked up accidentally by her microphone. "You still haven't heard the whole story. Will you let me ask her some questions now?"

Tah'at turned to him, and her eyes were as cold as ever. They had not softened after hearing Brenna's testimony. Tah'at covered her microphone again. "She still has not acknowledged you as her clansman and Elder. The Clan Tahl will not permit an outsider who has no connection to the case to be an Inquisitor."

"Then let me ask her," Luke said. "I think she'll acknowledge me now." Sah'vo had told him that all he needed to do, was to get Brenna to acknowledge that she was a Skywalker and that he was her father. Since she was under oath, it should be an easy accomplishment.

Tah'at's eyes shifted to Nah'wor, and then she said tightly, "Ask her if there is any clansman, present or not, whom she would have stand with her."

Nah'wor repeated the question. "Brenna Brellis, you come before us dressed in Council colors, not in clan colors, with not even a token badge. Is there no member of your clan, present or not, whom you would have stand with you?"

"No," Brenna replied, not even caring why such an odd question would be asked of her.

The murmur around the chamber started again.

Luke shook his head, and addressed Tah'at. "She doesn't understand your customs. You're not asking the right way."

Tah'at looked at him, then down at the stage. "Very well," she said. "You may ask such questions as will ascertain her clanship with you. But I warn you, any deviation from those parameters, and I will have you removed."

"Thanks," Luke said, and rose from the table immediately. He descended down the aisle without further ceremony. The murmuring ceased as the audience waited with anticipation to hear what was about to happen.

Brenna watched the hooded figure descend the stairs with almost disinterest, until Luke raised his head and pulled his hood back.

She gasped in surprise, then said, "What are you doing here?" Her voice was amplified to be heard around the chamber.

"Hi, Honey." Luke replied. He didn't cover his microphone, and his voice also resounded around the Great Hall. He wanted them to hear him address her in familiar endeared nicknames. "They're going to let me ask you a few questions."

"I don't want you here."

"Well, you've got me. I'm just here to help."

"I don't want your help. I want–––"

She was interrupted by Tah'at's voice booming around the Hall. "The Inquisitor will limit himself to asking the questions within the parameters discussed, or he will be dismissed."

Luke suppressed a sigh. "Brenna, Sweetheart, will you tell these people here who you really are, and what the relationship is between us?"

"I've already said who I am. The rest is not relevant to the case at hand."

"On this world, it is."

"How did you get in here? I thought the rules didn't allow it."

"If you want to play by the rules, you'd better learn them."

Tah'at's voice resounded again. "Are we to listen to this pointless arguing all day? The witness will answer the question."

Brenna pressed her mouth together into a grim line briefly before answering. Then she said, "My legal name is Brenna Brellis. I've also used the names Brenna Owens and Brenna Snowe, though neither of those two names has ever been my actual legal name of record."

"But who are you really?" Luke pressed. None of the names she had just given would establish clanship with even Rupert, much less himself.

"I've used no other names than those I've just given," Brenna replied stubbornly, not giving him what he needed.

Luke tried a different approach. "What are the names of your parents?" he asked.

"My birth-record lists my mother's name as 'Briande Brellis.' My father's name was left blank."

His question had backfired. Brenna had just effectively named herself a bastard–––clanless–––in the eyes of the entire Council. But Luke wasn't one to give up easily. "Despite the fact that the name of your father was left off the public record, you know that name, don't you?" he asked. "Tell these people the name of your birth father, and then tell them who raised you."

She hesitated, then lifted her head resolutely and did not answer.

"Do you know me?" Luke pressed.

Brenna was Hell-bent on sabotaging her own rescue, it seemed. Luke was about to repeat the question, when Tah'at broke in again. "The witness will answer," the old woman said.

Brenna closed her eyes. She drew a breath in, let it out again, and said very quietly, "Yes, I know you."

"Who am I?" Luke asked. She was going to drag this out as long as possible, it seemed.

It also seemed that her wit had not deserted her. "Well, if you don't know by now, there's not much I can do about it."

There were a few scattered titters around the Hall, but Nah'wor's voice boomed. "The Chamber of Councils is a place for truth, not for mockery. The witness will answer the question."

_Just say it, Bren,_ Luke thought. He asked again, "Who am I?"

She sighed. "You're Luke Skywalker."

"And how do you know me?"

Brenna closed her eyes and didn't answer.

At the table at the top of the aisle, Tah'at lost her patience and stood up. "Enough of this nonsense," she said. "Let us speak plainly. This man claims that he is your father and the Elder of your clan. Tell us now if this is so. If it is, then he has the right to remain, and we may–––_may_–––approve his petition to act as an Inquisitor. If it is not so, he will be removed from the Chamber of Councils. By force, if necessary."

Back at the witness stand, Brenna opened her eyes. "May I ask a question?"

Tah'at raised an arm in a gesture of futility, at the hopelessness of allowing outsiders into the Chamber of Councils, and sat back down. "Ask," she said.

"Is it possible for someone to be a blood relative, but not be a member of one's clan? I mean...is it possible for someone to be outside of a clan, despite biological parentage? To...leave a clan, or disown it?"

It became deathly quiet in the Great Hall. All eyes turned to the table at the top of the aisle. This time, it was Nah'wor who drew himself up and rose from his seat. "It is possible," he said. "Marriage, for example, is one way in which a person may join a new clan. In fact, it is a necessary and honorable tradition to join a new clan in this manner. It can be said that one does not truly leave the parent clan in that case. It is also possible to denounce one's clan, or for the members of a clan to disown one of its own, if a great wrong has been done to the individual by the clan, or to the clan by the individual. But I warn you, such a course of action is not to be taken lightly. There is much dishonor on both sides in such circumstances."

Brenna drew air in deeply. "Then I tell you now plainly that this man is my biological father, but I denounce myself from his clan. I do not wish for him to act as my Elder, and ask that my biological father be removed from the Chamber of Councils."

This was not what Luke wanted. Not at all what he wanted.

Brenna's words started a great stir among the Councilmembers. Luke was aware of Sah'vo telling him In his ear what a terrible thing Brenna was doing, and Tah'at telling Nah'wor that Clan Tahl no longer approved the petition of one called 'Luke Skywalker' to act as an Inquisitor, and at the same time, Luke was shouting "Wait!"

Shouting because Nah'wor had switched off his microphone.

Nah'wor hit his gavel. With the tone and the dimming of the lights, silence fell over the hall. Luke was about to tell them all that Brenna didn't really understand the significance of what she had said, when Nah'wor's voice boomed. "Before any further action is taken, Elder Sah'det wishes to address the Council."

In the section to the left of center from where Luke now stood looking at Nah'wor's table, and closer to the staging area, Sah'vo's uncle rose and looked up at the table. "Eldress Tah'at, may I speak, and may I question the witness?"

Tah'at glanced at Luke, then nodded.

Remaining where he was standing, Sah'det turned to face Brenna. "You said that your legal name was 'Brenna Brellis' before you were married. May we assume that you are still married?"

Brenna hesitated, but said, "Yes, that's correct."

"It is most unheard of for one in your position to come to a trial such as this without clan representation. If you do not wish your biological father to stand with you, could not your husband or someone else of that clan stand with you?"

"My...husband has other clan duties which preclude him from attending. In any case, I do not wish for him or any of his clan to represent me. Nor do I wish to be considered in any way representative of his clan."

"Are you declaring yourself, then, to be clanless, entirely without clan? Without the protection of even a clan name?"

"I am," Brenna said, lifting her chin.

"In that case," Sah'det turned and looked up at the Moderator's table, "as Elder and representative of the Clan Saht, I would like to offer my clan name to the witness, to adopt her into Clan Saht, so that she may know the strength of clan and be supported by it in this, her time of need."

Luke switched on his microphone to talk to Sah'vo. "Tell your uncle thanks, from me." If he could ask his questions through Sah'det, his plan still might work.

"It would be much better if you told him yourself," Sah'vo replied.

Nah'wor studied the Elder. "Will you need to discuss this offer with your clan?"

"I feel certain that the others of my clan would agree and approve."

"How says the witness?" Nah'wor asked. "It is a generous offer, fairly made. Will you accept?"

"No," said Brenna. She looked at Sah'det. "You do not know me, nor I you."

"The Clan Saht bears an honorable name. I would act as Elder for you, since you have no other. I ask you to reconsider."

"Thank you, but as I said, I don't even know you. I can't accept such an offer from someone I've never met. And I can't believe you'd want someone like me in your clan, either, without even knowing more about me."

"Thank you, Elder Saht GaDet," said Nah'wor, "but it seems clear that the witness has refused your offer, and for reasons with which I find it difficult to argue." Nah'wor took a breath. "It is also clear that the witness does not acknowledge the presence of the one called 'Luke Skywalker' as her Elder. His presence heretofore has been an allowance only by Clan Tahl, and Eldress Tah'at has denied his petition to continue as Inquisitor. How says Clan Tahl now? Will Clan Tahl allow him to remain? And will Clan Tahl appoint another Inquisitor?"

Tah'at rose slowly from her seat. "The Clan Tahl will no longer allow his presence," she said. "Nor do we have any further questions, if the witness has nothing more to add to her testimony. We ask that the one called 'Luke Skywalker' be removed from the Chamber of Councils, and then we ask for a vote."

"So be it!" said Nah'wor, and the white-clad guards at the doors to the Council Chamber began moving down the aisles to converge on Luke.

Luke knew that he was speaking out of turn, which was against the rules, but it couldn't be helped. Amplified by only his own lungpower, he looked up at the table where Tah'at sat. "You still haven't heard everything! She doesn't really mean what she said!"

Nah'wor's voice boomed out, "Hold!"

Two of the guards had just reached him. They each took one of his arms, and Luke knew that if he fought them, he would seal Brenna's fate, so he shouted again, "She doesn't mean what she said!"

As two more of the guards reached Luke, Nah'wor made a gesture. The guards instantly released Luke and looked up at the table for further direction. The room waited in tense silence.

"Do you doubt the veracity of the witness?" Nah'wor's amplified voice asked.

Over Luke's headset, Sah'vo's voice came in a panic. "My friend! My friend, do not answer! Consider carefully first. If you say yes, she will be given the water of truth and asked the questions again. If it is found that she lied to any question that was asked of her, she will be given to the Clan Tahl without further debate or deliberation, and it will go very ill with her. It is very likely that she would be put to death through the most miserable means imaginable for telling a lie within the Chamber of Councils!"

Luke listened to Sah'vo's words, then touched the switch to mute his microphone on the public-address system if, in fact, it had been switched back on. "This 'water of truth' is a truth serum?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Sah'vo replied. "It is used only in the most extreme cases, and only when veracity is doubted. That has only happened four times in our history. In two of the cases, the witness was found to have lied, and was put to death. In the third, the witness was a child who was protecting another in his clan. The one he was protecting was put to death for allowing the child to perjure himself in the Chamber of Councils, and the child himself was given to the wronged clan to raise."

"What happened in the fourth case?" Luke asked.

"In the fourth case–––" Luke could almost hear Sah'vo's shrug, "–––it was found that the witness was telling the truth, and so was set free."

"What are the side-effects of this 'water of truth'?"

"As far as I am aware, there are none. Aside from the consequences of having lied under oath, I mean. But if she is telling the truth, then it is you who will be punished, for suggesting that she might behave in so dishonorable a fashion."

"Give me a worst-case scenario. If I were punished, what's the worst they would do to me?"

"In the case of the witness who had not lied, the elder of the clan that challenged him was forbidden from representation in the Chamber of Councils."

"Wait a minute–––" Luke said. "That's the _worst_ thing that would happen?"

"Well, I do not believe that you would be put to death. After all, suspecting that one lied in the Chamber of Councils is not the same as lying oneself. However–––"

Luke didn't wait for him to finish. He deactivated the mute switch and looked up at Tah'at and Nah'wor. "Yes, I do," he said in his normal speaking volume. The public address amplified his voice over the multitude of speakers in the room. "I contend that she is wrong on several counts of her testimony."

Once more, the Chamber became as quiet as death.

"My friend–––" Sah'vo said desperately over the headset. "My friend, I beg you, do not–––"

Luke ripped off the headset and stood facing Tah'at in the midst of the silence, with his head held in much the same position Brenna had held hers when she had denounced herself and declared herself to be "clanless."

Tah'at was silent for a moment, then rose again. "Has your customs advisor informed you of the consequences of stating what you now state?"

"He has," Luke affirmed. "And I still contend that my daughter was wrong on several counts of her testimony. I ask that she be given this 'water of truth,' and I ask to be allowed to question her again once she has taken it."

The etched lines of Tah'at's face became an expression of shocked bewilderment as the silence stretched into seconds. It was clear that she had not expected any of this. Finally, she regained some self-control. She sat back down slowly, still stunned, but once again the Eldress of her clan.

Behind Luke, Brenna asked in a quiet whisper, "What are you doing?"

Luke ignored her.

Finally, Tah'at spoke. "Very well," she said. "If you are fully aware of the consequences, then the Clan Tahl can make no objections. We ask the Council to take the witness and give her the water of truth, and when she is ready, to bring her back here, and continue these proceedings."

"So be it," Nah'wor said, and the tone of the gavel echoed in the chamber with the sound of finality.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Four**

After the Council guards had taken Brenna away, the Councilmembers stood up and mingled with each other. Luke returned to his seat, well aware of the topic of their conversation, even without the frank, open stares in his direction. Even Tah'at stood up and went to talk with the members of her clan. Only Luke remained in his seat at the Moderator's table. He sat there calmly and quietly, and watched while the circular desk and dais were removed and replaced by a lounge-type chair. Apparently physical abilities were also impaired by this "water of truth."

Luke kept his eye on the Moderator, who was bowing to and conversing with some of the other elders of the Council. In a New Republic trial, it would have been grounds for a mistrial for the judge to be interacting socially with the jury, but here, it seemed to be expected. After a while, Nah'wor touched his ear-set, and spoke into his mouthpiece. Nah'wor excused himself from the group he'd been conversing with, and began making his way, without haste, back to his seat at the table. At the staging area, a white-clad guard entered and stood at attention beside the door through which Brenna had come and gone.

"Wake up, Sah'vo," Luke said into his own microphone. "It's showtime."

"My friend, I hope you know what you are doing," said the worried voice in his ear.

"So do I," Luke murmured.

As Nah'wor returned to his seat, so did Tah'at and many of the others. The lights flashed as a warning that the intermission was over. Nah'wor waited to give everyone enough time to get back to where they were supposed to go before hitting his gavel.

When the chime had finished and the lights had once again returned to normal, Nah'wor said, "This trial is once again called to order. Has the prisoner been given the water of truth?"

The guard at the stage bowed.

"Bring her, then."

The guard opened the door and stood aside. There was an almost breathless anticipation as the Council waited.

After a few seconds, a pair of guards, one with his arm around Brenna's waist to support her, the other flanking her other side but not touching her, brought her in. Brenna shuffled alongside her guard unsteadily, and had to be held up several times. She looked small, and frightened, but there was nothing Luke could do about that at the moment.

She was taken to the chair, and together the two guards lowered her into it and retreated out the door through which they had entered. Only the door guards remained.

Luke knew his cue. He stood up and bowed to Tah'at and Nah'wor. "With your permission?"

"By all means," said Tah'at.

Luke descended the stairs and went to his daughter. She turned her large, scared eyes on him. This truth serum apparently hindered one's ability to control facial reactions. After first making sure his public microphone was turned off, he touched her hand and told her quietly, "It'll be all right, Bren. You trust me, don't you?"

"No," she said thickly.

Well, there was nothing he could do about that at the moment. He switched on his public microphone to get to the business at hand.

"Brenna?" Luke said. "Do you remember what you said here this morning?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"Was any of it a lie?"

"No," she answered.

Before he could ask his next question, Tah'at was on her feet. "There!" she cried. "By her own mouth, and after taking the water of truth, it is clear that the witness is guilty. We ask the Council to give her to us. It is our right!"

"May it please–––" Luke started, then found his microphone had been cut off again. This was getting to be annoying. So he raised his voice to be heard. "May it please the Council, I still contend that the witness' testimony is in error, and that you have not heard the whole truth–––"

"What more is there to hear?" Tah'at interrupted before he could finish. "The witness has given testimony, and has said again after taking the water of truth that she did not lie."

Luke dropped his head and gave it a shake, making a sound that was more a noise of frustration than of laughter, and looked back up at the table. "You haven't given me the chance to ask more than one question. Knowing the penalty for lying within the Chamber of Councils, I wanted to prove to you that she was not lying. I never said that she was lying! I said that her testimony was wrong."

"What is the difference?" Tah'at said. "In the name of Clan Tahl, I call for a vote!"

"The difference–––" Luke shouted, trying to be heard over the noise that was developing, "–––is the difference between a mistake, and a lie. When a child tells me that two plus two equals five, I know that the answer is untrue. But the child has not lied if he or she truly believes that two plus two equals five. He has merely...made a mistake! There's a universe of difference between a mistake, and a lie!"

The noise quieted, then became silent.

"How can she be mistaken about something of this nature?" Tah'at asked in the silence.

It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Luke answered it. "If you give me the chance," he said, "I'll show you. I'm only asking for what's fair." He waved an arm at Brenna. "Look at her. You know she can't possibly answer anything but the truth. What harm can it do to let me ask a few questions? Or do the Eldress Tah'at and her clan value revenge more than the truth?"

All eyes turned to Tah'at. She drew herself up, outraged at the implication that she or her clan were anything less than honorable or that their motives any less noble than the exercising of their given rights. "How dare you!" she said angrily. "How dare you speak to me that way, you who have no right to be here. You, whose blood-child denies you and your clan. How _dare_ you!"

"I intend to address the clanship issue first thing," Luke promised. "And if I don't prove to the satisfaction of everyone in this Chamber that I am indeed her clan elder and that I have a right to be here, then you can have me thrown out, and no one can accuse you of being unfair.

Nah'wor leaned over and whispered something into Tah'at's ear. Luke nodded to himself. It was a good sign. At least one of the Council members was curious about what Luke was trying to get at, and the Moderator, at that. After a moment, Tah'at heaved a sigh and sat down slowly. She was silent for a space, then said something to Nah'wor, who nodded. When Nah'wor spoke, Luke was not certain whether he spoke for Tah'at, or in his position as Moderator. This whole thing was beginning to look like Tah'at's show rather than a fair trial.

"You may proceed," Nah'wor said. "But do not try the Council's patience. The Clan Tahl has allowed that, because you and the witness are outsiders, a certain...flexibility must be granted. However, if we find that this questioning is going nowhere, you will be removed, a vote will be taken, and the witness will be remanded into the custody of the Clan Tahl."

"Fair enough," Luke said with a single nod of acknowledgement and acceptance, despite the fact that even Nah'wor seemed to have decided on Brenna's verdict already. He had started to draw the gray token badge out of the pocket of his robe, then decided against it. His best argument was that he and Brenna were outsiders and did not know Sarcopian customs. Better not to even make a pretense at assimilating Sarcopian customs. He turned to his daughter. "Sweetheart," he said gently, and was gratified to hear his voice amplified once again, "I notice you're wearing your locket. Would you pull it out so everyone can see it, please?"

Slowly, Brenna reached a hand up to her neck and pulled the chain with the heart out from her shift. Then she lowered her hand. The locket dangled at her throat. Luke could hear a snort of disbelief coming from Eldress Tah'at. The microphone picked up her comment of "Jewelry. What has that to do with the case at hand?"

Luke ignored Tah'at. "Would you tell us, please, what's inside the locket?" he asked Brenna.

Brenna answered mechanically, "Three small locks of hair: one from you, one from Rupert, and one from the baby."

"Would you state the nature of the relationships you have with me, Rupert, and the baby?"

Her dull eyes looked at him. "You are my father. Rupert is my husband. Han is my son."

"Did anyone _force_ you to wear that locket today?"

"No. I just...wanted to."

"Brenna, do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Have you, at any time prior to today, wished to disown me as your father?"

"No."

"Yet you did so today."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you here."

"Why not?" Luke asked.

"Because...I have to do this alone."

"Do you want Rupert here?"

"No."

"Do you love Rupert?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to divorce Rupert?"

"No."

"Would you divorce Rupert, if it meant keeping him out of this Chamber?"

"Yes."

"Brenna...how would you feel if you could never see me, or Rupert, or the baby again?"

"I would feel...sad."

Luke turned away from Brenna and spread his hands to the silent Chamber of Councils. But his eyes remained fixed at the top of the center aisle. "Shall I go on? By your definition of 'Clan Elder,' do I not have a right to be here?"

For the space of several heartbeats, there was no answer. Then Tah'at, in a less venomous voice than she had used in her previous address to the Council, said, "Yet she denies you. Clan is not something that one can discard like a dirty garment because it is inconvenient, and then take up again when it becomes convenient."

"A mistake," Luke pointed out. "In her own mind, she has to be here alone. She just said as much. Don't forget, we are off-worlders. Brenna was not raised in your customs.

There was another silence. Tah'at leaned over and whispered something to Nah'wor. In that space, Sah'vo said privately, "My friend, this is very interesting. Nothing like this has ever happened here before."

Finally, Nah'wor nodded, sat up straight, and said, "The Clan Tahl will allow that you are, for all purposes of this Council today, the Clan Elder of the witness, and the Council acknowledges your presence at these proceedings as the right of your clan. However, the witness has given testimony under oath that she is guilty of murder, and has affirmed that testimony after taking the water of truth. We do not see how there can be any but one outcome to this trial."

Luke took a few steps forward. "Members of the Council, there were many mistakes in my daughter's testimony, and many things left unsaid. You will say I was not there, and that is true, but I do know something of the circumstances surrounding Brenna at the time of Tah'cher's death. I am a stranger on your world. But I know that in a New Republic trial, the jury would hear all the facts of the case, and there would be many more witnesses besides just Brenna who would be called in to testify. If you allow me to question her now, while she is still under the influence of the water of truth–––" _drugged_, Luke thought, but didn't use that word aloud, "––– I think I can get at these facts. As to the outcome, I cannot say. And if _you_ can say, before hearing all the facts, then this is _not_ a fair trial, and Sarcopians are not as honorable as they pretend to be."

There was a long silence. Luke was surprised that Tah'at didn't jump to her feet in anger at the way he had just given potential insult to her entire planet. Instead, she seemed thoughtful. After a moment, she exchanged some words with Nah'wor, but he did not speak immediately afterwards as he had on the other occasions when she had conferred with him. Then she seemed to become lost in thought again, rested her chin on her steepled fingertips for a minute, and finally seemed to reach a decision. She put her hands down, raised her chin, and said, "The Clan Tahl will grant the petitioner's request to act as Inquisitor in this matter, provided that it is, in fact, the truth he wishes to honor, and not his own desire to have the witness set free."

Luke let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you," he said. He had his chance, now. And with Brenna telling the absolute truth, he had to convince every Sarcopian in this room that she was not, in fact, guilty of the murder she had so recently testified to committing.

It was not going to be an easy task.

Luke took a deep breath, turned to his daughter, and began not at the beginning, but at where she had begun in her testimony. "Brenna, earlier today you said that you were a 'guest' of Etan Lippa at the time of Tah'cher's death."

Brenna said nothing. He had made a statement, not asked a question, and in her stupored state, she could volunteer nothing.

"Are you sure you meant 'guest,' and not 'prisoner'?"

"Yes," said Brenna dully.

"How did you come to be a 'guest' of Etan Lippa?" Luke asked.

"He found me at the Academy. I left with him."

"Did Etan Lippa threaten you to get you to go with him?"

Her face scrunched in doubt. "I...'m not sure."

"What do you mean? He either threatened you, or didn't."

"He...made threats, but not against me."

"What threats did he make?"

"He...said that he would kill others at the Academy, and it would be on my head."

"And you believed him?"

"He had already penetrated Academy security. There was no reason to think he could not do what he said."

"Did you _want_ to go with Etan Lippa?"

"I'm...not sure."

"Would you have gone with him, even if he had not made those threats?"

"Yes."

The answer surprised Luke. He had not expected it. The question "Why?" came out before he thought about asking it, and he immediately followed that up with, "No, never mind. Don't answer that." He tried to change the subject quickly. "About what date did this–––"

He was interrupted by Tah'at's voice. "The Clan Tahl would know _why_ she would go with Etan Lippa."

Luke drew in a breath. He had inadvertently opened this can of worms, and it was too late to close it again. Besides, leaving the question unanswered might do more harm than good. "All right. Brenna, _why_ would you have gone with Etan Lippa?"

"I hated the Academy, and Etan Lippa promised to teach me everything I wanted to know. And...I knew what he was capable of, without his having to say it."

"What kinds of things did you know he was capable of?"

Brenna looked at her father, and tears spilled out of her eyes. The truth agent apparently also made it difficult to cover emotions. She had never looked more vulnerable. "That room...on the Star Destroyer. He did that."

"Would you describe the room you just mentioned, the one on the Star Destroyer?"

"There were...bodies. Preserved in transparent cases. Some of them were dismembered..."

"And Etan Lippa did that to them?"

"Yes."

"Knowing that, how did you feel when Etan Lippa kidnapped you from the Academy?" Luke used the word 'kidnapped' on purpose. In her drugged state, he doubted if Brenna would notice it, but doubtless the Councilmembers would.

"I was afraid. But I was excited, too."

"Because he promised to teach you?"

"Yes."

"But you couldn't have refused him in any case, could you?"

"No."

He directed the next question back to where he wanted to take this. "Why did you say you were a 'guest' and not a 'prisoner'?"

"Because...of the way Etan Lippa treated me."

"How did he treat you?"

"He treated me well. He gave me expensive clothes and expensive food. If I asked for anything, he gave it to me. He was very attentive."

"What would Etan Lippa have done if you had told him you wanted to leave?"

"He would have stopped me, kept me there by force."

Luke turned to the Council briefly and spread his hands to be sure that they got the point. The cage may have been gilded, but it was still a cage. Then he turned back to Brenna.

"Did Etan Lippa ever explain to you about the trophy room–––that room on the Star Destroyer?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He said that...your friends in there had been military targets, and he had put them on display as a deterrent."

"Did you believe him?"

"I don't know. Sometimes..."

"Did you ever _stop_ believing?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When I saw what he was doing to Tah'cher. I didn't see how that old man could possibly be a military target. He didn't even know Tah'cher's name..."

"Brenna, what happened after Tah'cher died?"

"I...don't understand..."

"Did Etan Lippa trust you?"

"Yes. To some extent. More as time went by."

"Did he make you the Administrator of Croyus Four?"

"Yes."

"Did he send you the prisoners he had captured on his raids?"

"Yes."

"What happened to them?"

"I had them sent to Medea, to the Afterlife."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Did Etan Lippa know about the Afterlife on Medea?"

"No. Not until the end."

"How many prisoners did you torture on Croyus Four?"

"None."

"How many did Etan Lippa torture?"

"I don't know."

"After you became Administrator, I mean."

"None."

"How do you know?"

"I replaced some of the real prisoners with actors, and some of the guards with friends Devon had made at the Academy. I altered prisoner records to make it appear as if the only ones who knew anything were the actors I had planted. I modified the torture devices to only send signals to receivers that were implanted in the actors' ears, replaced the drugs with placebos, altered the monitoring devices, made sure I knew when Etan was planning a session, found ways to distract him when things didn't go exactly as planned."

"So you developed an elaborate ruse to protect the people that Etan Lippa sent to Croyus Four?"

"Yes."

"How many people were protected in this manner?"

"Six hundred twenty-two thousand, eight hundred and ten."

"Brenna, how many deaths are you responsible for?"

Brenna's face scrunched with the effort of trying to keep it in, but she had been asked, and she had to answer. "A...bout Thhhreee mil...lion."

That caused some murmuring in the chamber.

Luke stared at her. Then he realized that he had asked the wrong question. "How many–––" he began, but the noise of the Councilmembers drowned him out.

Nah'wor hit his gavel. By the time the tone faded and the lights came back up, the talk had quieted.

"Councilmembers will _please_ remain quiet for the remainder of the testimony. The Inquisitor will please resume."

"Thank you," Luke said, then asked Brenna, "How many people have you _personally_ killed?"

"Two."

"Tah'cher and Etan Lippa?"

"Yes."

"How many people were killed on Croyus Four by your order?"

"None. The death orders I gave were false."

"And you knew they were false when at the time you gave them?"

"Yes."

"Why did you save three million before?"

"That's how many Etan Lippa's forces killed from the time I went with him until his death. About that."

"You feel responsible for that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"If I had killed Etan right away, they'd be alive."

"Why didn't you kill him right away?"

"At first...I wasn't sure about him. And then...I couldn't do it."

"Why not? Why couldn't you?"

"I don't know."

"Did you _want_ to kill Etan Lippa?"

"I wanted to stop him. Not kill him."

"Do you feel guilty about killing him?"

"Yes."

"Even though, at the time, he was trying to kill Rupert and me?"

"Yes."

"Even though, by killing him, you probably saved countless others?"

"Yes."

Luke smiled. "So you feel guilty about both letting him live _and_ killing him?"

Her face scrunched again. "I…don't know. I should have…stopped him without killing him."

"Why _did_ you kill him?"

"I didn't intend to, at first. I only intended to put a shield around him. But he wouldn't stop. I didn't know what else to do."

"Did you ever stand trial for killing Etan Lippa?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because of the statements you and Rupert gave."

"And those statements, that you killed Etan Lippa because he was killing us, were they accurate?"

"Yes. Pretty much."

"Let's talk about Tah'cher now. Did you want to kill _him_?"

"No."

"Then why did you do it?"

"He asked to die. He didn't want to go through any more pain."

"He _asked_ to die?" Luke repeated her words to make sure that the Councilmembers got the point.

"Yes."

"What did he say, exactly?"

"He said, 'Please. Let me die.'"

"He said that to you?"

"No. He said that to Etan."

"Brenna...you said before that you couldn't kill Etan Lippa."

"But I did."

"Yes, eventually. Could you have killed Etan Lippa at that moment, when he was torturing Tah'cher?"

Her answer came out as a sob. "I don't _know_."

"Were you armed, at that moment?"

"Yes."

"With what?"

"A lightsaber."

"Was Etan Lippa armed?"

"Yes. He had a lightsaber, too."

"Was his bodyguard there?"

"No. He usually dismissed them before an interrogation."

"Brenna...prior to the time of Tah'cher's death, I had never taught you how to use a lightsaber. How did you learn?"

"Etan Lippa taught me."

"Was he better than you?"

"I don't know. We never practiced against each other."

"How did you practice?"

"Against seekers."

"Did you have any reason–––any reason at all–––to think that Etan Lippa _might_ have been better than you?"

"Yes."

"What was that reason?"

She struggled, not wanting to say it.

"What was the reason, Bren?" Luke repeated.

It came out. It had to. "You."

"Explain what you mean by that."

"You...were afraid of him. He was more powerful than you were."

_Good girl_, Luke thought. "Did you have any reason–––any reason at all–––to think that _you_ might be better than _him_ with a lightsaber?"

"No."

"So if you had challenged Etan Lippa, right at that moment, in all likelihood, you'd have been killed. Isn't that correct?"

"I don't know."

"But as you just stated, you had more reason to believe that you would lose rather than win, right?"

"Yes."

"So the only real options you had at the time were to let Tah'cher continue to suffer, or just put him out of his misery?

"I could have challenged Etan. Or…something."

"And if you had lost, which was likely, Tah'cher would have continued to suffer, until, at last, he was killed, too. Isn't that true?"

"I don't know."

"Did Etan Lippa know that you killed Tah'cher?"

"I don't...think so."

"If he had known, would you have been able to rescue the six hundred twenty-two thousand, eight hundred and ten prisoners that you managed to rescue from Croyus Four?"

"I don't know."

"If he had known about your killing Tah'cher or about the Afterlife on Medea, wouldn't he have hurt you, the way he hurt Tah'cher and the men and women in that room on the Star Destroyer?"

"I don't know."

"In ending Tah'cher's pain, didn't you take a personal risk to yourself, the risk of incurring Etan Lippa's wrath and ending up like Tah'cher and the men and women in that room on the Star Destroyer?"

"I don't know."

"Isn't even the not knowing the full extent of the risk, in itself the taking of a risk?"

"I don't–––"

Luke interrupted. "Never mind. I know. You don't know." He drew a deep breath, and turned to face the Council. "Would you punish her," Luke asked, "for giving an old man the release he asked for? Would you punish her for sparing him more pain, when the only foreseeable outcome was death–––not just Tah'cher's, but her own, as well? Would you punish her for taking great personal risk upon herself to end his suffering, and for taking great personal risk upon herself to save thousands–––no! _Hundreds_ of thousands more like him? Would you punish her for being frightened and confused in the midst of a situation that would terrify and paralyze almost anyone in this room? I wouldn't, even if she were one unknown to me instead of my own daughter, and even if she could have changed Tah'cher's fate."

Tah'at cut him off before he could get any further. "It is not your place to talk of punishment. That is completely within the jurisdiction of Clan Tahl if the Council finds her guilty. Yet we thank you for revealing circumstances to us of which we had not yet been aware." She paused. "If the Inquisitor has no more questions, we will dismiss him and ask the Council for a vote."

Luke set his jaw grimly. He had not, so far, broken his oath. Nor did he plan to break it, exactly, but he was prepared to stretch the truth, if he had to. The question was whether he had to. "Just a minute," he said, and muted the public-address microphone. "Sah'vo," he said.

"Here, my friend," Sah'vo answered immediately.

"Do you think the Council would find her guilty now?"

There was a slight hesitation before Sah'vo replied, "My friend, you have raised some interesting aspects. I do not think now that her punishment would be nearly as severe as it would have been before. However, the Council's purpose is simply to decide the guilt or innocence of the accused, and that has not changed. It seems clear to me that she has done what she has said she has done, and therefore it is the right of Clan Tahl to decide what is to be done with her. But they will–––"

Luke cut him off. "Are you telling me that the Clan Tahl could still do whatever they want with her, and no one can stop them?"

There was another hesitation before Sah'vo said, "Well, yes, but it is the nature of punishment that it fit the crime, and it seems to me that her crime is perhaps not so great as one might at first suppose."

Luke sighed. Sah'vo still had the innocence and optimism of a young child. It was just that quality that had convinced Luke years ago that Sah'vo had not committed the murder of which he had been accused, but at the moment he was finding it a little tiresome. "But you're not in the Clan Tahl, and you really don't know what they'll do."

"That is true," Sah'vo admitted.

It looked like Luke would have to pull out all the stops, after all. It wasn't _exactly_ lying, he told himself. It was…making them believe what he wanted them to believe without his actually saying the words.

Luke unmuted his microphone and addressed the Council. "No, I'm not finished," he said. There's a big part you haven't yet heard."

"Then proceed," said Tah'at.

Luke faced the dais. Brenna was going to have a hard time forgiving him for this later, but he'd rather deal with that than whatever "justice" the Clan Tahl would hand out if he didn't do this. Luke took a deep breath and went on. "Brenna, are you aware that there was an autopsy done on Tah'cher?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what was listed as the cause of death on the autopsy report?"

"Yes."

"Would you tell us, please?"

"The cause of death was listed as heart failure."

"Did the report say that the heart failure was a result of natural causes, or murder?"

"The report was inconclusive."

"What did it say?" Luke pressed.

"It listed the heart failure as the probable result of physical distress."

"Meaning torture?"

"Yes."

"Yet you believe you killed him."

"I know I did."

"How? Did you inject him or poison him with something that could not be detected in the autopsy?"

"No. I stopped his heart."

"How?" Luke pressed.

"I used the Force."

"Would you describe the process of 'using the Force' to stop someone's heart? How did you do it?" This was the tricky part. It was very difficult to describe the use of the Force to non-sensitives, and he didn't think Brenna could do it any better than he could. He just hoped he was right.

"I...thought about it, and...willed it to happen."

"You _thought_ about it?" Luke asked, putting emphasis on the word 'thought.' "And _willed_ it to happen?" He put the same emphasis on the word 'willed.'

"Yes."

"And simply by _thinking_ about it and _willing_ it to happen, you were able to accomplish what you say you did?"

"Yes." She was starting to become troubled now. Perhaps she had some inkling of what Luke was planning to do and was trying to fight it.

"Brenna, before coming here, were you under the care of a physician named Doctor Sih Tibbik?"

"Yes," she answered. She appeared to want to say something more, but couldn't. Luke thanked the Deities that the truth-agent made her able only to answer, and not to volunteer.

"What is Dr. Tibbik's specialty?"

She fought the answer, but she could not hold it back. "Psy...chology."

A murmur started through the Chamber of Councils. They were beginning to understand what Luke was implying.

"And how long have you been seeing Dr. Tibbik?"

Again she struggled, but the drug had too strong a hold. "Ever... since... I... killed... Etan Lippa."

"And if you hadn't killed Etan Lippa, he would have killed me, and Rupert, and all those people on Medea you had managed to rescue. Isn't that correct?"

"He…wouldn't stop."

"We'll take that as a 'yes.' Honey...isn't it possible that you only _thought_ you killed Tah'cher? That he just happened to die at the moment you were thinking it might be better if he _did_ die, perhaps _wishing_ he would die, and you've been blaming yourself erroneously ever since?"

"No!" She struggled to get the rest of the words out. "I...know...what...I...did!"

"All right, then. How about a demonstration of these powers of thought and will that you say you have. Just something small, something to show these good people here that you really do have the ability to turn mere thought into physical manifestation."

"You...know...I...can't."

"Why not?"

"I lost...my powers."

"_Lost_ them?"

"Yes!"

Luke turned his back on Brenna. He wanted the elders to vote now, while they were still off-balance. "Members of the Council, do you think my daughter actually killed Tah'cher?"

Behind him, Brenna struggled to say something. She made noises in her throat that came out as moans but were in actuality words half-formed.

Luke ignored her and went on. "It's obvious that my daughter is a very troubled young woman, made so from her ordeal with Etan Lippa. She has tortured herself far more than Tah'cher was ever tortured. I submit to you that she was, in fact, a prisoner, and not a guest, of Etan Lippa, and that he so twisted her mind that she believes herself to be guilty of murder. Can you–––any of you–––kill with a thought? Could _she_? I submit to you that the best place for her is with her family, where she can receive the love and medical care she needs to make her well again–––not in a place of punishment, despite what she thinks in her own mind. I could not stop her from coming here. All I could do was set you straight as to some of the facts of this case. And now that you've heard all the facts, I ask you to take a vote. To say whether you believe her to be guilty of anything more than being a victim herself."

Luke let the murmur grow. He was finished now, and the talk could only help his cause. It was not really his place to call for a vote, but as an 'outsider,' he figured he could probably get away with it. In his ear, Sah'vo was saying, "My friend, when you insisted that your daughter was innocent, I had no idea that this was what you meant! I understand your reluctance to let this become common knowledge, but it is ever better for the truth to come out than to stay unrevealed. I wish you had told me before of your daughter's condition. I grieve with you most sorely for this tragedy."

Luke touched the microphone switch. "Do you still think they could find her guilty?"

"_I_ would not be able to do so, if I were on the Council. I feel certain that they must find her _not_ guilty. And although I cannot speak _for_ my clan, I may certainly speak _to_ them, and I believe they will agree to help you in whatever way we can. In the meantime, I pledge to you all my personal resources to aid you in your plight. There are most excellent medical facilities on my world, and even within my own clan, there are highly skilled medical personnel. Though, of course, if there are others better skilled outside my clan we should not hesitate to call on them. Or even on off-worlders, if such is the need. Do not worry about financial resources. I will do everything in my power to help you obtain the best possible care for your daughter, at no expense to yourself. This I will do for you, my friend. You are in a most grievous situation, and I may hope that Brenna will soon be brought to her right mind again. I may also hope that–––"

Luke cut him off. "Thanks for your offer, Sah'vo, but Dr. Tibbik is considered top in his field, and I think the best place for her is with her family and friends."

"Of course, of course. But I hope you will please accept whatever assistance I may–––"

Nah'wor hit his gavel, and the murmuring died away. Luke "Shhh"-ed Sah'vo, and waited for what the Moderator was going to say. He hoped Nah'wor would say that the Clan Tahl had conceded Brenna's innocence, and then Luke could get her the Hell off Sarcopia, now, while she was still drugged, and before she could undo everything he'd just done.

Instead, Nah'wor said, "Elders of the Council, the Clan Tahl has asked for a recess before we take a vote, and I see no reason to refuse the request. The Eldress of Clan Tahl has also asked to speak with the witness once the water of truth has worn off and she has rested. I see no reason to refuse that request, either. Therefore, I call for an adjournment until tomorrow morning. We will reconvene at first light."

He hit the gavel, the lights flashed once, and in one movement, the audience rose to its feet, talking amongst each other in a loud noise. Brenna's guard moved from his place and started to help her to her feet. In Luke's ear, Sah'vo said, "My friend Luke, we are done for the day. I will meet you in a few minutes outside the Chamber of Councils where I left you this morning."

"Why does Tah'at want to talk with Brenna?"

"I do not know. It is beyond my powers of imagining. But I do not see what harm it can do."

Luke drew in a deep breath and let it out again. He had just given everyone on the Council, including Tah'at, a good reason to doubt anything Brenna might say. But Brenna was intelligent, and Hell-bent on her own destruction. If Tah'at talked to Brenna while she was no longer under the influence of the truth serum and able to speak freely, there was no telling what might happen.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Five**

Luke entered the Chamber of Councils with even more apprehension the second time than he had the first.

He saw the change immediately. There was a piece of equipment or apparatus in aisle in front of the staging area, covered by a tarpaulin. The circular witness stand/desk had been removed. Instead, there was a single chair in the center of the dais. The wall itself was now covered by a thick mat of some sort, and there was an "X" marked on the wall about five feet up from the floor.

Luke didn't like this, not one little bit.

The Council members were buzzing with curiosity. Nah'wor indicated for Luke to sit again at his place at the top of the center aisle, at the place reserved for the clan elder of the accused. Tah'at was already in her seat. She glanced at Luke, with an unreadable expression, then turned her gaze back to the front. It was not a good sign.

Luke could do nothing, except wait.

Nah'wor called the Council to order, and Brenna was brought in. No longer drugged, she walked under her own power. She sat in the chair, her back straight, with her guard standing to one side. With the desk gone, her microphone was on a headset much like Luke's. She appeared to be calm. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her expression was serene.

Then Nah'wor announced, "Eldress Tah'at has met with the witness in private, and would now like to address the Council."

Tah'at spared Luke another glance, and then rose to her feet. "I have spoken with the witness, and she has told me aspects of this case that have not yet been discussed within this Chamber."

Luke didn't bother checking to see if his microphone was turned on. He knew that it wasn't. But he wanted to be heard. He spoke without shouting, but loud enough to be heard throughout the Chamber. "I wouldn't trust much of what Brenna said. In her mental state, she's liable to say anything."

Tah'at glanced at him. "If the Outsider continues to speak out of turn, I would be within my rights to ask the Council to have him bound and gagged."

Luke raised his hands in surrender, and said nothing more. He wasn't sure if Tah'at meant it. She probably did. Not that he had any intention of complying with everything she said, but he'd save it for when it would do the most good. Besides, he had accomplished his purpose, which was to reiterate that Brenna was not mentally competent, and that anything she said should not be taken at face value.

"I will ask the witness to repeat to the Council what she has told me." Tah'at went on.

Luke gave a helpless sort of shrug as if to ask why Tah'at could not simply accept his daughter's dementia and let her return to where she could receive the treatment she needed.

Nah'wor addressed Tah'at over the public address speakers where everyone could hear. "Should we trust any further testimony from this witness, after hearing the testimony from yesterday?"

"After what she told me in private, I believe that she spoke the truth yesterday. She says she has a way wherein she may prove the truth of her words."

"Very well," Nah'wor said, "the witness may proceed."

Brenna took a deep breath and tilted her chin up slightly. "What I have to tell has been kept secret for many years. However, it is not _my_ secret. It is my father's. Therefore, I ask the Council for its word to not let what I say be repeated outside of these walls. Before I told Eldress Tah'at, she gave me her word that what I told her would not go beyond the Clan Tahl. I ask you for the same promise."

Luke rested his head on his fingertips and shook it. If Brenna thought he cared about his 'secret,' she was mistaken. Now that Etan Lippa was dead, he didn't care who knew about his past. What he cared about was _her_. And although anything she might say now didn't bother him as far as his own well being was concerned, he _was_ worried about what would happen to _her_. And he had no idea how she intended to 'prove' the truth of her words.

"Are there any objections?" Nah'wor asked. There were no answers from the Council members. He looked at Luke. Luke shook his head. If he objected now, it would only look bad. He would have to defend Brenna with a counter-attack, but the timing would be important. He would have to let Brenna finish what she was going to say, and then give it a different twist.

"Very well," Nah'wor said to Brenna. "The Council has given its word. Please proceed."

Brenna rose slowly, her expression unchanging, and stood where she was. Only her eyes moved as she addressed her audience. "Members of the Council," she began. "My father would have you believe that it is not possible to kill with a thought, and that my mind is so twisted that I do not know the difference between reality and fantasy. But it _is_ possible, and I am _not_ crazy. Please bear with me, and I'll try to explain.

"My father's name is Luke Skywalker. If you are familiar with history, you may recognize that name as belonging to the fighter pilot at the Battle of Yavin, who fired the proton torpedo that destroyed the Imperial space station and changed the course of the Rebellion. It was the first battle in which victory was won by the Alliance rather than the Imperial forces. 'One in a million,' that shot has been called, and my father was the pilot who made it."

Luke could feel the eyes of some of the Council members on him. He had to play his part carefully. So far, what Brenna had said could be verified. He gave his hands a slight spread as if to say, _So?_ In his ear, Sah'vo's voice was filled with awe. "My friend, I had no idea that you were a hero from the Rebellion. I am most honored to be able to call you my friend."

"Save it, Sah'vo," Luke muttered back. "I've got other things to attend to."

"Oh. Yes, yes. Of course, of course. Please forgive me, my friend."

Brenna went on. "It was more than mere luck that allowed my father to make that shot–––"

Now Luke was on his feet, before she could finish saying it, launching his counter-attack. "Members of the Council," he said, "my daughter is about to tell you that I was a Jedi Knight, and that's how I made that shot. I can tell you in all honesty that no Jedi Knight destroyed the Death Star."

"You weren't a Jedi then," Brenna said, undaunted, looking at him. "But soon after. And you _did_ use the Force to make that shot."

Luke spread his arms, half-wondering why Tah'at wasn't interfering and demanding that he be bound and gagged after all. "This has been one of Brenna's obsessions for a long while, now, thinking me to be more than I am. I am just a man, like any other. I love my daughter, and want to see her made well again. I ask the Council to listen to no more of this nonsense."

"It's _not_ nonsense," Brenna returned. "It's the truth." Then she addressed the Council. "And if you know anything about the Jedi Knights, you know that they were Force-sensitives, able to turn thought into manifestations. I inherited certain abilities from my father–––for one, the ability to move things, with my mind. I was able to stop Tah'cher's heart with a thought. But I've lost my powers. My father knows this. That's why he asked me to give a demonstration of my powers yesterday, because he knew that I wouldn't be able to."

Luke interrupted her. "If you must listen to this, then check her story out. The name 'Luke Skywalker' has never been associated with the Jedi Knights."

"Because you were careful to make sure it wasn't," Brenna answered. "But you were the greatest of them all. You were their teacher. You taught Corran Horn, Peer Galbraith, Dahn Morwynian–––all of them."

Luke laughed. "Next you're going to say that your husband is a Jedi Knight, and I taught him, as well."

Brenna saw the trap, but she refused to be baited. "Rupert was your student, yes. So was I, for a time."

"But you can't prove any of this, can you?" Luke asked.

"Yes, I can," Brenna replied, "in two ways." She looked up, not at her father, but at Nah'wor. "The first is to give my father the water of truth that was given to me, and then let me ask him some questions, the way he was allowed to ask me."

"What lies have I told?" Luke asked. "All I've done has been to ask you some questions."

"You've told no lies," Brenna said, "but you would have one believed. You were careful to phrase everything so that the Council members would infer what you wished them to infer without your actually saying the lie."

There was a low murmur in the Chamber of Councils. Luke pressed his mouth together momentarily. "Brenna, do you believe I want what's best for you?"

"You're not an Inquisitor any more, and we're not here to decide what's best for me. We're here to get at the truth."

Nah'wor stood up. "Enough!"

Brenna stopped and looked up at him. Luke bit back his own reply and turned his head to look at the man next to him.

"The water of truth is not something we take lightly," Nah'wor said. "And the elder of Clan Skywalker is not a Witness to the matter for which we convened. As Inquisitor, he was permitted only to ask questions, and he was not present at the death of Elder Tah'cher. If we permit this sort of inquiry, it may set a dangerous precedent. Moreover, the Elder of Clan Skywalker is an Outsider. There may be ramifications for Sarcopia that go beyond the Chamber of Councils. Before I will allow this course of action, I must insist upon proper discussion."

Tah'at stood. "Elder Nah'wor, _I_ will act as Inquisitor for the Clan Tahl myself. The elder of Clan Skywalker is here only in his position as elder of his clan, and may no longer be permitted to speak, unless I am overruled by the Council."

"As you wish," Nah'wor said.

Tah'at made her way slowly down the aisle. Age may have hindered her speed, but it did not make her stoop or hold her head any less high than a younger woman would have. But as she approached the dais, she had a little trouble maneuvering around the piece of equipment that was covered by the tarp. Brenna automatically started to offer her a hand, but the old woman waved her away. Brenna hesitated, then took her seat at the chair on the dais.

"Brenna Brellis-Solo of Clan Skywalker," Tah'at began, "you spoke of a second method by which you might prove the truth of your claim."

"Yes," Brenna said.

"You have not given me the details of this method, but you have asked that the Chamber be prepared in a certain manner. Is this correct?"

"Yes," Brenna said again.

Tah'at turned to address the Council. "Clansmen of my own choosing have prepared the room as she has asked. She would like to demonstrate what she means to do. A 'dry run' she called it. The Clan Tahl has no objections to listening to what she has to say, or to the demonstration. I ask your indulgence to do the same."

There was a murmur of curiosity throughout the chamber until Nah'wor rapped his gavel. "What sort of 'demonstration'?" he asked.

"I will ask the witness to explain," Tah'at replied.

Brenna stood up, and Tah'at sat down in the chair that Brenna vacated.

Brenna moved to the object and removed the tarp. "I believe that some of you may recognize this antique."

Luke drew in a breath as he saw what it was. He was starting to develop an idea of what Brenna's plan was. The purpose of the thick mat backdrop on the wall was now clear. It was both a target, and a backstop. But if Luke were not in the room, Brenna could not go through with her plan. He stood and took a purposeful stride toward the exit, but the guard at the door moved to block his way.

"Do not let him leave!" Tah'at shouted, getting to her feet.

Luke considered for a fraction of an instant fighting his way through the guards, but that would be as much of an admission that he had lied as letting Brenna complete her intentions.

Better to dissuade the Council with logic.

He held his hands up in surrender, and returned to his seat.

Brenna calmly continued her explanation. "This device," she said, "is a pre-Republic era grenade launcher. It has been bolted to the floor and locked into position, so that it is impossible to alter its aim by any means known to physical science without your observing it. It has been loaded, not with grenades, but with two identical solid metal spheres. The only modifications made to the launcher itself is that it will signal just before it launches with three beeps, spaced one second apart, and it will be controlled by a remote switch."

"This," Brenna went on, stepping to one side of the weapon and holding aloft a small box, "is the remote switch to operate the launcher." She glanced back to make sure that Tah'at was out of the line of fire, and then pressed the button on the remote.

The room was silent. Every ear strained to hear the _beep-beep-beep_, and then the _whoosh-thud_ of the launcher sending its missile into the target. It landed in the dead center of the "X", creating a deep impression, stayed there for a second, then fell to the floor with another _thud_.

Brenna waited a second, then said, "_I_ have lost the ability to move things with my mind, but my father has not. My father has the ability to prevent such a sphere from hitting its intended target. If I can _prove_ that he has this ability, then I also prove that everything I've said in this room is true, and I am not out of my mind, as my father would have you believe."

"How do you intend to do that?" Eldress Tah'at said, voicing the question that was on everyone's mind.

Brenna pointed to the depression in the mat where the first sphere had hit. "By placing my head right here when I launch the second sphere."

Now it was time to act.

"Members of the Council," Luke said, rising to his feet, "this idea is ludicrous! If there was any doubt in your mind about how troubled my daughter is as the result of her encounter with the man who was _truly_ responsible for Elder Tah'cher's death, then there should be none now! Do not–––I beg you!–––do not let her go through with this scheme!"

"I will certainly not allow her to do so without a vote preceded by proper discussion," Nah'wor assured him. "The Council recognizes Elder Ben'dot of Clan Bendt."

An elder from somewhere to Luke's left said, "Can we allow the prisoner to destroy herself before her guilt is even established? If her father is right, that will be result."

Tah'at, on the stage, responded. "She came of her own accord, and she is the only living witness to my husband's death. Her father was not there. I believe the prisoner."

"And if you are wrong?" another elder said. "If you are wrong, what then? Here, within the Chamber of Councils, it is not the Clan Tahl who will decide what must be done. We–––all of us–––will have allowed her death to occur for no reason. No, I am inclined to favor the father. Let the Outsiders return to the Outside, and leave Sarcopia alone!"

"I must agree with Sur'lon," said Sah'det, Sah'vo's uncle. "I grieve for the loss of the Clan Tahl, but unless there is another less dangerous way for the prisoner to prove her words, I must object to this demonstration going any further."

"Yet she came to _us_!" Tah'at replied. "Can we allow a guilty conscience, even an Outsider's, to fester and putrefy, when the soul wishes to be cleansed of the guilt?"

"Perhaps we _should_ give the father the water of truth and allow the daughter to question him," said another eldress. "I am more inclined to that solution than to any other."

"And if he affirms, after taking the water, that his daughter is merely troubled, as he states now, what then?" asked another. "The daughter would only say that his supposed Jedi powers of mind and body allow him to negate the effects."

"Should we allow the water of truth to be taken so lightly?" asked another elder. "I, for one, am not prepared to accuse the father of breaking his oath. He is here as Clan Elder, not as a Witness–––"

_Beep_.

The sound caused Luke to whirl around to see Brenna standing with her head in front of the target "X" and the depression made by the first sphere. She had the remote in her hand, and her eyes were closed against the weapon aimed at her, which she herself had directed to be set up. Luke ignored his physical senses and reached out with his mind to find a switch to turn the launcher off. He could try to arrange for a plausible malfunction later.

_Beep_.

With the second beep, the Councilmembers, whose response time was a little slower than Luke's, began to react. The conversation began to stop, and they were just turning to look at the staging area.

_Beep_.

Luke couldn't find the switch, and there was no more time. The ball was already on its way to Brenna's head before the dull _whoosh_ reached his ears, because of the slower speed of the sound. Luke had no choice. He reached out to the sphere to give it a push. He pushed as hard as he could, but the ball was moving fast.

Brenna gave a small, involuntary shudder as the wind from the sphere's passing brushed her cheek and the _thud_ of its impact momentarily deafened her ear.

The chamber was as quiet as death. After a second, Luke realized that he had unconsciously stretched his hand toward the sphere, that it was stretched out still, and that every eye in the Chamber was now on him. He closed his fingers into a fist and lowered his arm slowly. He had failed. The Council would have no choice now but to find Brenna guilty. And once that verdict was given voice, she would be at the mercy of the Clan Tahl's justice.


	6. Chapter 6

**the Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Six**

Brenna drew in a shaky breath and opened her eyes. The sphere had missed her, but not by much. She had half-expected her father to freeze it in midair.

The silence continued for another long moment. Even Eldress Tah'at looked shaken. Only Sah'vo, in Luke's ear, was speaking, and speaking frantically. "My friend, my friend, what has happened? I heard the machine! Does Brenna yet live? What has happened?"

Tah'at was the first to recover. "Members of the Council," she said. "We have heard the testimony, we have seen the evidence. There is nothing more to be said or discussed. I call now for a vote. _Two_ votes. First, for the matter for which we convened. Second, for the matter that has arisen within these walls, the breaking of the oath sworn by the Outsider, Elder Skywalker, before he was permitted to enter the Chamber of Councils."

In Luke's ear, he heard Sah'vo's intake of breath as the Sarcopian realized what had happened. "You..._lied_?" he asked. "In the Great Chamber...you _lied_?"

Luke saw Brenna frown. It had not occurred to her that Luke would actually be charged with breaking any oath he might have taken. He caught her eye and gave his head a tiny shake. It was nothing for her to worry about.

Tah'at sat back down on the chair in the staging area, and Nah'wor asked, "Is there any further testimony, evidence, or discussion?" There was no answer. He rapped his gavel. "A vote is called. Remove the prisoners."

Council guards surrounded Luke. One of them took his headset. They faced the door through which Brenna always entered and exited, and Luke turned towards the door. They moved as a unit. Another group surrounded Brenna. She glanced at her father over their shoulders, then was ushered toward the exit. Luke's group followed Brenna's group. Luke was by no means anxious to linger. He hoped he would have a few minutes to talk with her before the verdict became official.

Once outside the Chamber, they were ushered into a room that had only one door, a table, and a small bench on either side of the table. The guards left them alone inside. Brenna looked at her father, then sat down on one of the benches, folded her arms on the top of the table, and laid her head on her arms.

Luke went to her and stood behind her. "That was a stupid thing to do, Bren. I almost couldn't deflect it."

She turned her head to look at him, but did not lift it. Her expression was puzzled, as if "deflect" was far beneath what she had judged his abilities to be. For a moment, Luke was distracted by the thought that she was probably judging his abilities by what her own had been. Deities, if she had been able to do more than he had just done, she had to have been amazingly powerful.

"I gave you plenty of warning," she said.

"Sweet Force, you call that a _warning_?"

She put her head back down, burying it again. "You shouldn't have come. I didn't know I'd get you into trouble. I'm sorry."

"I got myself into trouble."

"What do you think they'll do to you?"

"I'm more worried about what they'll do to _you_."

"I made you break your oath. They're not going to forgive that easily."

"I wouldn't worry about me, Sweetheart. Sah'vo says the worst they can do is ban me from the Chamber of Councils." He didn't clarify that that was related to insisting that she take the 'water of truth,' and had nothing to do with perjury.

"Who's Sah'vo?"

"A friend of mine. From before you were born. I met him during a...vacation trip. One of these days, maybe I'll introduce you. His uncle, by the way, is the one who wanted to adopt you."

"What, do you have an 'in' on every planet of the galaxy?"

"No, I just managed to luck out with this one."

The door opened. Brenna raised her head. A Council guard motioned for them to return to the Chamber.

"Well, that didn't take long," Luke commented, holding Brenna's chair for her. "I'll create a distraction, if you want to make a run for it."

Brenna looked at him, not finding his joke at all funny.

They stood on the stage, apart from each other, each surrounded on all sides except the front by a semi-circle of white-clad guards, half of them guarding Luke, half guarding Brenna.

To Luke, it had much of the same look and feel as when he had surrendered to Imperial forces, and had been surrounded by storm-troopers while they waited for Darth Vader to come and take his son to the Emperor.

Nah'wor's voice spoke. "Brenna Brellis-Solo of Clan Skywalker, the Council finds you guilty of the murder of Tahl BaCher, known as Tah'cher. You are therefore remanded to the custody of Clan Tahl, to be punished as Clan Tahl decides."

"You may take her to our transport," Tah'at said from her seat, once again at her place at the table with Nah'wor.

Brenna's guards closed the circle around her, and moved with her to the door on the opposite side of the stage from which they had entered.

Nah'wor waited until they were gone, then spoke again. "Luke Skywalker, elder of Clan Skywalker, the Council finds you guilty of breaking the sacred oath you took before entering the Chamber of Councils. You are therefore remanded to the custody of Clan Tahl, to be punished as Clan Tahl decides."

To Luke's surprise, Tah'at did not also order him to be taken to her transport. "Elder Sah'det," she said.

"Yes, Eldress Tah'at?" said Sah'vo's uncle, from across the room.

"This man was a guest of your clan until now, was he not?"

"He was," Sah'det confirmed.

"We do not hold the Clan Saht in any way responsible for his behavior. However, we have a request to make. Will you continue to keep him for us, and deliver him to us whenever we may ask that you do so?"

"We will," Sah'det replied, "And we thank the Clan Tahl for the honor of its trust."

"You may find your burden more difficult to bear than you now imagine. If that is so, please do not hesitate to change your mind and contact us," Tah'at said.

Sah'det bowed.

"The business of this Council is concluded," said Nah'wor. "We are adjourned." He struck his gavel, and the trial was over.

Brenna's wrists were put in binders. She was handed the bundle of clothing and shoes she had been wearing when she had turned herself in to Council custody, then taken to an outer room where Tah'at and a large, muscular young man were waiting. The man was dressed in a uniform like the Council guards but in the same sea-foam green color that Tah'at wore. One of the white-clad Council guards bowed and said, "The prisoner is now yours. Do with her as you will."

Brenna took a deep breath. She was now officially in Clan Tahl custody, something her father had fought so hard to prevent. But it was where she belonged, she knew.

Tah'at looked down at her for a moment, then turned and walked toward the door. Brenna guessed that she was supposed to follow her, so she adjusted the hold on her bundle and took a tentative step after her. The single Clan Tahl guard fell in behind her.

There was a small transport waiting outside the building, with a pilot dressed in the same sea-foam green uniform as Brenna's clan-guard. Tah'at hobbled over to the transport. Brenna had to take small steps herself to keep from overtaking the older woman. The pilot helped the Tah'at up the step, stood aside for Brenna and her guard to climb up, then followed them inside, closed the door, and ducked into the cockpit. Brenna waited for the Eldress to sit, then hesitated, not certain what she should do. Tah'at nodded to the seat across the aisle, her face as expressionless as stone, and Brenna sat down. The guard sat down behind her.

The flight took all of a half an hour before they landed, passing in silence except for the throb of the shuttle's engines. When Tah'at stood, Brenna rose also, and followed the old woman out of the ship. The single guard took up the rear once again.

They had landed in front of a large building. Tah'at turned to address the guard. "See to her," she said. Those were the only words spoken since they left the Chamber of Councils. The guard nodded once, and Tah'at then left on foot with the pilot.

The guard raised an arm towards the door of the building.

The door slid open as Brenna approached, and they entered a room with one other door on the opposite side. The other door was a gate made of heavy metal bars. Beyond the gate was a hallway. At the other end of the hallway was a heavy, solid metal door with a small reinforced window cut high into it. The wall to Brenna's left had a section of metal drawers built into it. The only piece of furniture in the room was a small, plain table.

The guard took a magnetic key out of his pocket, and undid Brenna's binders. Then he pulled one of the drawers out from the wall. The drawer was about was about two feet square and about a foot deep. This he laid on the table. "Put your things in here," he said.

Brenna put the clothes and shoes she'd been carrying in the box.

"Everything," he said.

At first, Brenna was confused.

"The clothes you are wearing," he said.

"You want me to take my clothes off?" Brenna said, not quite sure she'd heard right.

"You belong to the Clan Tahl now. You have nothing but what the Clan Tahl chooses to give you. You enter with nothing, as any prisoner does."

Brenna felt uncomfortable undressing in front of him, but she didn't argue. She took off the white slippers and put them into the box, then pulled off the white shift, folded it neatly, and laid that on top.

"_Everything_," the guard repeated.

Brenna's hand went to her throat. "It's just a locket."

He met her eyes impersonally, not seeming to care that she was standing stark naked in front of him. "You belong to the Clan Tahl now. You will do as you are told, or suffer the consequences."

Brenna reluctantly undid the clasp and dropped the necklace into the box. She felt even more naked without that then without the white shift.

The guard took the box, slid it back to its place in the wall, and then pointed to the barred gate.

The tiles on the floor were cold on her bare feet. Some unseen mechanism caused the gate to slide open as Brenna approached it. The guard followed her, and the gate closed behind the both of them.

Brenna walked down the hallway and waited in front of the heavy metal door. She was cold, and she hugged her shoulders as much to conserve warmth as to cover her body. Then the door slid open with a dull rumble, and Brenna stepped forward into the Clan Tahl prison.

Behind her, the door slid shut again with a hollow sound.

Three hallways intersected behind the door. The guard moved to a closet, took out a towel and washcloth, went to another closet, took out a seafoam-green shift similar to the white one Brenna had just taken off, and a pair of matching slippers. He handed all of it to Brenna, then pointed down the hallway to the right. Several identical doors came off the hallway. "You will wash off the impurities of the body before you touch anything else belonging to Clan Tahl. I will wait for you here."

Brenna turned and went down the hall. She tried the first door she came to, saw that it was a single shower facility, slipped inside, and leaned back against the door momentarily, grateful that this, at least, she was allowed to do in private.

Then she sighed, pushed herself away from the door, and turned on the water.

The water was cold, but not freezing. Try as Brenna might, she was not able to make it any warmer. Resolutely, she stepped under the water, found the dispenser for soap, and washed herself, including her hair. When she was done, she towel-dried her body and hair as best she could, since she couldn't find a dryer, then put on the shift and slippers.

When she came out, she handed the towel and washcloth to the Clan Tahl guard. He dropped these down a chute, told her to "Come," and led the way down the short main hallway, which Brenna could see contained cells. Each cell was a square, with three solid walls and one half-solid, and half-made of bars. It was clear that the barred gates were made to slide into the solid portion of the wall. There was also a palm pad mounted on the solid portion of the wall next to each barred gate. Each cell contained a cot with a pillow and blanket, and a crude sink and toilet. The guard took her to the last cell, although they were all empty, pressed his palm against the reader, and the door slid away into the wall. He pointed to the interior, although he needn't have bothered. Brenna understood very well where she was supposed to go. Then he pressed his palm against the pad again, and the barred door slid back into place.

As he started to turn away, Brenna said, "Excuse me?"

He stopped and turned back to face her.

"What...happens now?" she asked.

His tone was emotionless. "The Clan Tahl Council will meet and decide what is to be done with you. In the meantime, you will wait here."

As the echo of his footsteps receded back down the hallway, Brenna felt a wave of great loneliness come over her. The building felt as empty as it sounded, and she missed even the impersonal presence of the guard.

Sah'vo said nothing to Luke on the return trip to Clan Saht territory. It was the longest stretch Sah'vo had probably ever gone without speaking. Luke wondered idly where he'd be spending the night. He was sorry to lose his friendship with Sah'vo, but Brenna was far more important. Luke waited until the Clan Saht shuttle landed, then stood up and leaned close to Sah'vo. He was at a loss for how to help Brenna, but at least he would do what he could to make Sah'vo's situation a little less awkward–––especially since he had caused the situation to begin with. "I know you don't understand why I did what I did," Luke said softly. "But I can see that I make you uncomfortable. If you can recommend a hotel, I'll get out of your hair."

"I will speak with my elder," Sah'vo said, not looking at him.

Luke straightened and descended from the transport to the ground. He leaned against the hull of the ship. Deities, he was tired. But he couldn't rest, not while Brenna was herself a prisoner of Clan Tahl. He closed his eyes to shut out distractions from his visual sense, and searched for her through the Force. But of course he couldn't sense her.

"Luke."

Luke opened his eyes. He noticed that Sah'vo hadn't addressed him as 'my friend' or 'my friend Luke' as he had always addressed Luke before.

"You will remain a guest of my house. My uncle has sanctioned it."

"I don't want to put you out, Sah'vo."

"I would like to know _why_," Sah'vo said simply.

Luke nodded. He owed Sah'vo that much, at least. "You told me that Brenna would still be convicted, even after the elders heard the story–––the whole story, which was all perfectly true. I couldn't just stand by and let the Clan Tahl do whatever they want with her. You heard the testimony. You know that she's as much a victim as Tah'cher ever was."

"You have no regrets, then?"

"I regret getting caught," Luke admitted ruefully. "But not trying to protect my daughter."

"Your oath means nothing to you, then." Sah'vo's disappointment was transparent.

"I wouldn't say that," Luke corrected. "I told no lies in that chamber. I _misled_ the Council. I didn't _lie_ to them. The only untruth was the misconception that I _allowed_ to be believed, after the whole story was told, and after you told me she would still be found guilty. I never _stated_ that she lacked the ability to kill Tah'cher with a thought. I phrased it as a question, and let the Elders draw their own conclusions."

"You failed to honor the truth," Sah'vo said. "It is the same thing."

"Given the choice between honoring the truth and protecting Brenna from laws that are as unjust as the ones on your world, I'd make the same decision again. If it had been _me_ in Brenna's position…" he shook his head. He'd have done things a whole lot differently.

"What would you have done?" Sah'vo asked.

"To be perfectly honest, Sah'vo, I'd have sent a holo-message explaining what happened, and agreed to meet family members off-world if they wanted to ask me questions in person. I would have been completely honest, but I wouldn't have put myself in the position of being subject to Sarcopian justice. New Republic justice, maybe. Sarcopian justice–––" he shook his head.

"So it is our system of justice itself that caused you to break your oath?"

Luke made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "Sah'vo, your system of justice isn't exactly a model of fairness. You value truth. I respect that. But when they–––Clan Tahl–––get to do anything they want with someone like Brenna, despite the truth, there's something wrong with the system. If I knew that justice would be served by the truth, then I would have honored the truth. But when the system is flawed, I will do whatever is necessary to see that justice is served, especially when it involves someone I love. Your punishments have a reputation for being extremely cruel and unusual. Brenna is a victim, not a murderer. A New Republic jury would have seen that and acquitted her. In fact, I doubt her case would even have come to trial. I value truth, Sah'vo. But I value justice more."

"The Clan Tahl will take the whole story into account, surely."

"The Clan Tahl is not exactly impartial. They don't have your distance from the victim. When Brenna told me she wanted to come, I did some research on clan systems in general, and on Sarcopia in particular. Sarcopia is not the only system to have ever utilized a clan-determined or victim-determined punishments for someone convicted of a crime. The one constant among all those systems is that such punishments are inevitably cruel and unusual. From what I've been able to learn, your world is no different in that regard. Sarcopian punishments reflect that same jaundiced inclination that most clan-systems have. The only thing that's different here is that there are no internal wars, as there are on most other clan-run worlds. In the New Republic, there is a set range of sentences, and individual cases are determined by an impartial jury. We don't put people to death for stealing, which your world has done, and we don't punish innocent people caught up in circumstances beyond their control. The Clan Tahl will blame Brenna for Tah'cher's death, not his real murderer. I understand their grief, but grief does unusual things to people. You don't think straight. You want to…take it out on someone. I've dealt with death often enough to know."

"It is _because_ of our system of punishment that we have had no clan wars in so long. And the Clan Tahl will not wish to appear unjust in the eyes of the other clans. The punishment that is decided upon is always a matter of public record once it has been carried out. That is the check and balance of our system."

"Look, Sah'vo, it's not my intention to judge you or your people. If it works for you, great. The Sarcopian clan system has been around a lot longer than any other clan system, and I suppose that says something about your world. But Brenna doesn't deserve to be punished for what she did. I was and _am_ afraid of what the Clan Tahl will do to her. She's an off-worlder, and nobody on Sarcopia is going to care about a condemned Outsider, except me, and I'm also condemned. I don't think even your uncle would be willing to risk breaking the peace your world has enjoyed for so long for the sake of one Outsider who is a self-confessed murderer! You're naïve if you think the Clan Tahl won't take their grief out on her. Or maybe you've just been part of the system for so long that you can't step back and view it objectively."

"I have been offworld. I have seen other systems of justice–––_your_ system. Ours is better. You do not see this, because you misunderstand the purpose of our punishments. Our punishments are for the benefit of the guilty, to wash away the sin and cleanse the soul, and to prevent the crime from occurring again."

Luke spread his arms in exasperation. "Sah'vo, according to my research, the last time someone was convicted of murder on Sarcopia, the sentence was death. Not _just_ death, mind you, but the convicted murderer was _starved_ to death! Now ask yourself, even if capital punishment is called for, shouldn't it be done as quickly and as painlessly as possible? What's the point of starving someone to death, except to satisfy the need for revenge?"

"I know the case of which you speak. But you do not understand my people. We believe that sentient people have an immortal soul. Is it not better for the murderer pay for his crime in life, so that his soul may be cleansed and lifted at death?"

Luke wiped his eyes tiredly. "Sah'vo, I think somebody has fed you a line of propaganda that you've swallowed hook, line, and sinker. Ask yourself whether what Brenna did truly deserves to be punished. Then see what the Clan Tahl does to her. I think you'll find a huge discrepancy. Maybe then you'll understand why I perjured myself–––if you can even call what I did perjury."

"You _are_ wrong," Sah'vo said, but his tone held the tiniest trace of doubt. "You will see. And there is one, at least, on Sarcopia who cares what will happen to your daughter. And to you. My...friend."

In actuality, it was only a couple of hours later, but to Brenna it felt like years, when she heard the dull clang made by the heavy metal door down the hallway as it opened, and heard footsteps approaching.

She went to the bars and looked as far as she was able down the hallway. After a moment, she saw that it was her guard again, carrying a tray of what looked like food. This he put on the floor and slid under the space in the bars that looked like it was made for that purpose. Then he turned away, still as silent as ever.

"Excuse me–––" Brenna said. She didn't want him to go, just wanted somebody to talk to.

He turned to look at her.

"I'm...really not very hungry."

"You will eat," he said tonelessly, "unless the Clan Tahl Council tells me otherwise. Or if you do not, I will inform my Council of the insult you give by refusing Clan Tahl food."

Brenna sighed as he continued back down the hall, more upset with herself than with the guard. What did she expect? After all, _she_ was the one who had killed his clansman. He was only doing his job.

Well, she would not add insult to her crimes by refusing to eat their food. She bent down to pick up the tray. She would eat whatever it was even if it was worm-ridden.

Fortunately, it was not. It was bread, soup of some sort, and a white-ish liquid that might have been milk with something thick mixed in it.

She carried the tray to her cot and sat down to eat. All of the food was rather bland, but not inedible. It was the first meal she'd had all day, but she didn't even notice she was hungry until half the soup was gone. She ate the bread next, and washed it down with the white stuff. Then she washed the dishes as best she could in the sink, slid the tray back out of her cell, and sat back on her cot. She felt a little better now than she did before, but the silence still left an emptiness inside her that food could not fill.

Luke went with Sah'vo back to Sah'vo's home. It was considered, Sah'vo explained to Luke on the way, a great honor for one clan to be asked to hold the prisoner of another, as Clan Saht had been asked. Luke didn't add that it also meant that Tah'at didn't consider Luke to be much of a flight risk, or she'd never have asked.

Luke thought it was ironic that Tah'at evidently considered Brenna to be such a risk, but not him, when in actuality, it was Brenna who could be depended on to show up for her punishment, no matter what it might be.

Once they arrived at Sah'vo's home, Luke excused himself and went to wash his face and hands and spend a couple minutes alone with his private thoughts. As he left the restroom, he could hear Sah'vo arguing with his wife, Sah'ren. Neither raised his or her voice, but the tone was plainly one of disagreement.

"Nevertheless," Sah'vo was saying, "he is my friend still, and I would have him treated as a guest while he is in this house!"

"Your 'friend,' this Outsider, created a lie within the Chamber of Councils. I do not want him anywhere near our children."

"I will not abandon him!"

"And I will not have the children here while he is within these walls. He brings dishonor to our house, Sah'vo, to our entire clan!"

"He cannot possibly. Sah'det has sanctioned his remaining here."

"What choice did he have? The Clan Tahl has asked our clan to keep him. Sah'det knows as well as I what he did for you before ever we were married. But that does not excuse what he did today in the Great Chamber!"

"He is an Outsider. He does not understand. Yet he is still my friend."

"He took the oath! Sah'mori was in tears when he heard. He has grown to care for this 'friend' of yours, because he knows that it was the Outsider who saved you. Now he fears that your friend will be put to death for his crime, and he is heart-broken. He does not understand how one whom he should love can be a liar! Quite frankly, neither do I. But I will not have my children frightened–––not in my own house!"

"Luke is my friend. He has no one to stand with him, except me. Even my uncle will not stand with him when he faces his punishment. But he has given his sanction for me to do so. For my sake, Sah'ren, I ask you to stay, and to keep the children at home, so that he may know he is not abandoned."

Luke had heard more than enough. He descended the stairs to the kitchen, purposefully making his steps loud enough to be heard. "Excuse me," he said, noting with surprise that Sah'vo's eight-year-old son Sah'mori and three-year-old daughter Sah'born were also in the room. Apparently Sarcopians didn't believe in arguing out of earshot of their children. Of course not, he realized. They would consider it a form of dishonesty.

"Forgive me for eavesdropping," Luke went on, looking at Sah'vo, "but your wife is perfectly correct. It's clear that my presence here is upsetting to her and to the children. Your wife and children should remain here, in their own home. _I'm_ the one who should go. I'm sure you can find me some other place to stay, a hotel room, or whatever. I really _don't care_ where I stay, Sah'vo. You've been a good friend, and any debt that you might think you owe me has been more than repaid. You don't need to stand with me, or put me up, or send your children away, or any of that."

Luke turned to Sah'ren and met her dark eyes with his blue ones. "I thank you for the hospitality you have already extended, and I apologize for frightening your children. I had no intention of doing so." He turned again to face the dark-complected boy with eyes still red and wet from crying. "Sah'mori, I'm sorry I upset you. Please forgive me." He turned to the youngest child, the three-year-old girl who was sucking her thumb in wide-eyed innocence. Luke found he had nothing to say to her that she would understand. He started to reach out to touch a dark curl, as he had done often with Brenna's straight yellow locks when she'd been that age, then thought the better of it and withdrew his hand. Instead, he completed the circle and faced Sah'vo again. "It will only take me a minute to get my bag."

He turned and went the way he had come, back up the stairs, to get his bag. He could hear Sah'vo and Sah'ren murmuring, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Brenna. If he could figure out some way to get her and get the Hell off Sarcopia without her coming back the first chance she got, he'd do it. But he was stuck here, at least for the time being, and truthfully, he'd rather Sah'vo weren't involved at all. He took his small travelling case out from under the bed and opened it by pressing his thumbs against the fingerprint reader locks–––not that he had distrusted Sah'vo or his wife, but there were children in the house and it was always better to be safe than sorry. His lightsaber lay on top of the few clothes inside. He took his cloak off a peg, folded it, and laid it on top of the lightsaber. It was a warm Sarcopian spring night. He wouldn't need the cloak tonight, and he doubted very much whether he'd actually find use for the lightsaber. Then he shut the lid again without bothering to re-lock it, picked up the case, turned and gave the room a cursory check. It looked exactly as it had before he'd ever slept there. But just as he started to leave, there was a soft knock, and the door slid open to show Sah'vo standing there.

"I'm ready," Luke said. "Let's go."

"My friend, there is no place to 'go' to," Sah'vo said. "You will remain right here, of course."

Luke sighed. "Sah'vo, I would _prefer_ a hotel room."

"I am sorry, my friend, but there is no hotel room to be had. There are no hotels on Sarcopia."

Luke stared. "What?"

"When one wishes or needs to visit another territory overnight, one stays with relatives or friends. There are no hotels."

"Don't you have any business travelers from off-world?"

"Very few. Those that do come are guests of the clan that invited them. Most of our business is conducted through communications systems. Or, if a face-to-face meeting is required, we usually prefer to go offworld than to have Outsiders come here."

"Avoids contamination, eh?"

Sah'vo didn't notice the shade of sarcasm in Luke's voice. He nodded. "Just so."

"All right, then, take me to the _Falcon_. I can sleep there."

"Again, I must apologize. You are a prisoner of Clan Tahl. You will not be allowed access to your ship until Eldress Tah'at releases you."

Luke sighed. He didn't care where he slept. One place was just as good as the other. Hell, a park bench would do, if it came to that. Or even a plasticrete walkway. "You have a prison, don't you?"

"Yes, but it would be an insult to my house for me to take you there after my uncle has sanctioned your staying here."

"Even if I ask to go there?"

"_Especially_ if you ask to go there. I will take you, of course, if that is what you wish, but it would be something of an embarrassment to my household."

"I don't want to cause you any embarrassment. Uh...what about a tent someplace?"

"Here, camping is a recreation only. It would be improper for you to sleep in a tent during your term as a prisoner of Clan Tahl."

"A relative, or a friend...?"

"My uncle has sanctioned only myself as your host. It would be–––"

"Deities damn it, Sah'vo, why don't you just take me back to Clan Tahl, and we'll both be done with it. Come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea..." Not a bad idea at all, actually. Especially if he were put into a cell somewhere near Brenna.

"Please, my friend, I must ask you not to use that sort of language while you are in my house. I do not wish for Sah'ren or the children to get any more of a wrong impression of you than they already have. Although given the stress you are most certainly experiencing under the present circumstances, it is perfectly understandable why you might feel the need to use such language. As for taking you to Clan Tahl, it would be much the same as admitting you were a flight risk after all, and that would certainly not help your cause. No, I am afraid that the best course of action is for you to remain here, and to await their summons."

Luke covered his face with his hands, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or scream. Probably both. "Sah'vo, I can't stay here. I make your wife nervous, and I upset your children."

"But you do not do so intentionally. And my wife is not nervous, only...concerned for the welfare of our children. It is a concern I do not share. Or rather, I _do_ share it, but not in this instance. Besides, we have worked out an agreement. You will remain here. That much was never in doubt. Sah'ren and I will remain here, also. The children will stay with Sah'ren's sister in the meantime. Sah'ren is satisfied. I am less than satisfied, but one must make compromises after all. And that is all there is to that."

The same guard came sometime later and picked up the tray. After another while, the lights in the cell bay went out, and Brenna assumed that it was a sleep period. She lay down on the cot, but couldn't make herself go to sleep. Many hours later, the lights came back on, and her guard returned. He took her for another cold shower, giving her another change of clothes first, then returned her to her cell. Not long after that, he returned with a bowl of warm, mushy cereal accompanied by another glassful of the white stuff. The breakfast was just as bland as Brenna's supper had been the previous evening, but she was hardly in a position to complain.

It was the solitary part of her confinement that was the worst, but she no longer tried to talk to her guard. Instead, she tried to keep herself busy as best she could within the boundaries of her cell as she waited for the Clan Tahl Council's decision about what they were going to do with her.

Brenna didn't know how much time had passed when she heard the door clang open down the hall. She assumed that the guard might be bringing an evening meal. But then she heard not one, but two pairs of footsteps approaching. They moved slowly, one pair of footfalls shuffling and the other with a heavier, surer step but moving slowly to wait for the first.

Brenna dropped to the floor from where she had been holding the bars behind her to do knee raises–––trying to get her stomach back into shape after the baby, not that it really mattered–––and waited. Tah'at and the guard came into view.

Brenna moved away from bars respectfully as they drew near. The guard pressed the palm pad, and the gate opened. Tah'at looked at Brenna and the light sheen of sweat she had worked up. The Eldress frowned. "You've been exercising?"

"Yes," Brenna admitted. There had been nothing else to do. "If it's forbidden, I won't do it again."

"The Clan Tahl has not forbidden it. However," she motioned to the guard, who withdrew, "you may find that you need your strength for other things."

"Yes, ma'am," Brenna replied, looking down.

Tah'at breathed in through her nose and exhaled. "I have just come from the Clan Tahl Council," she said. "We have had a rather difficult time determining the most appropriate punishments for you and your father."

"My father was only trying to protect me."

Tah'at made a sound that was like a laugh, but lacked humor. "He perpetuated a lie within the Chamber of Councils. It is a crime which is usually punished by death."

"No!" Brenna exclaimed, staring at her.

Tah'at raised her eyebrows. "It is not for you to say 'no' to the Clan Tahl. Your father belongs to Clan Tahl no less than you do. It is for us to decide what is to be done with him. And with you."

"Eldress Tah'at, my father was only–––"

"You will be silent!" Tah'at ordered.

"But he–––"

"Silent!" she said again. "Do you seek to worsen your own punishment–––and his–––by speaking out of turn?"

Brenna swallowed back the words that were now blocking her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the enormity of what she had done in the Chamber of Councils with her 'demonstration.' She had meant only to prove the truth of her own confession. Instead, she had signed her father's death warrant.

A sound escaped her throat, and she closed her mouth tightly to try to keep others from escaping. She squeezed her eyes shut as well, as if some noise might escape through them. She dared not breathe, lest some other sound ride out with the air, and covered her mouth with one hand to keep breath and sound inside.

"Now," Tah'at went on, "the Clan Tahl realizes that you did not know your father would be found guilty and given to us when you proved his lie. If you had known, you would probably have reverted to off-worlder ways and kept the truth from us and the Chamber of Councils. We also realize that your father did not actually _say_ the lie, but that he _encouraged_ the lie to be believed. To us, there is no difference. But to you off-worlders, there may be some miniscule difference. And finally, some years ago, your father helped a Sarcopian who was offworld and accused of a crime he did not commit. The fact that he would do so indicates that he might have at least some slight respect for the truth. For these reasons, we have decided against putting him to death."

Brenna's eyes opened, and hope flew back into them.

"However," Tah'at continued, "he violated our most sacred oath. He must be punished, and punished severely. The physical punishment we have chosen for him is extremely painful, though not fatal. At least, I do not believe it would be so. To _him_, that is. I am less certain as to whether _you_ would survive."

Brenna drew in a deep breath, not quite a gasp, as her mind raced ahead to where the Eldress was going.

Tah'at paced slowly. "Your father committed the crime because of you," she said, "and because of you, he was found out. Your truthfulness caused his lie to be exposed; yet it is ever better for the truth to be shown than to be kept hidden. We find ourselves in a rather unique dilemma. By punishing his lie, we also punish your honesty. Whatever we do to him will inadvertently affect you, as well. But the crime of lying is _his_, not yours. It is our desire to punish you for Tah'cher's murder, not for your father's lie. However, we find we cannot separate you from his crime, no matter how we try. Therefore the Clan Tahl has decided to do something that has never been done before. The Clan Tahl has decided to make you an offer."

"You're going to let me take his place," Brenna breathed, forgetting for the moment to be silent.

Tah'at stopped pacing and pretended not to notice the transgression. "That is the offer, yes. But before you answer, there are several things you must know. First of all, your own punishment for Tah'cher's murder has been decided. I cannot reveal to you what that will be until a more appropriate time, but it is immutable. Whether you say yes or no will not affect your own fate later. Secondly, this is only part of your father's punishment. The rest of the sentence is his alone, and you will not be given the opportunity to take his place for that. At this time, I cannot reveal to you what the rest of his sentence will be. However, I believe that if you knew what we intend for him, you would consider this punishment of pain to be the worst part of his sentence. I believe that your father would, too, although I also know that a Sarcopian would not. Finally, even in this, your father will not remain entirely unpunished. If you agree, he will be taken to an observation room where he may see, but not hear. He will know that you have suffered in his stead. But as of now, he knows nothing of this. If you say 'no' now, he will never hear of this offer from any member of the Clan Tahl, and the Clan Tahl will not speak of this outside the Clan. Now, speak. You have leave."

Brenna drew in a deep, ragged breath as she gathered her thoughts. "I have some questions," she said finally.

"What are these questions?"

"If...I do this, take my father's place...will _he_ be given the same opportunity to take _mine_ later?"

"No," the Eldress said firmly. "He may be given such an opportunity, but it will have nothing to do with your decision now."

"What do you mean?"

"Your punishment has already been decided. I cannot yet tell you the details, but part of your punishment will be to complete certain tasks that we will assign you. These tasks are yours alone. Taking your father's place in this, or not taking it, will not alter your own fate, or his, later. However, if you fail to complete any of your own tasks, then each time you fail, this same physical punishment of your father's will be your penalty. Then, and only then, will we give your father the opportunity to take your place. He will be given the same opportunity to refuse as we give you, but I do not think that he would do so. And afterwards, you will be given the same task again, and yet again, with the same penalty for failing to complete it, until you do complete it."

There was a hesitation before Brenna spoke again, and Eldress Tah'at saw a flicker of fear. "You won't tell me what these tasks are?" Brenna asked finally.

"No. Not at this time. Nor will we reveal to you the remainder of your father's sentence. But as I said, this is the only physical pain he is meant to suffer, and the worst part of his sentence, as I believe both you and he would judge it. Remember that the punishments we intend for him and for you are different. Do not think that his offense and yours are in any wise equal."

"You said...that I might not survive. You also spoke of failure. What happens if I start this and fail?"

Tah'at nodded. It was a valid question. "You may refuse to take your father's place at any time. You may take all, or part, of his punishment for him, as much as you can endure. There are twelve major houses in my clan, and your father is sentenced to receive one touch from each of these houses. For every touch you suffer, he will suffer one less. If you suffer all, he will suffer none."

"I would prefer...to take my father's place without his knowing."

"What you prefer is not important to the Clan Tahl. Your clan is in the wrong, and mine is in the right. It has been decided to make you this offer, and I have done so. You have heard the terms, now give your answer."

There was really only one answer Brenna could give. "I will take my father's place," she said, lifting her chin.

Tah'at nodded once in acknowledgement, then reached into a pocket and withdrew the chain and heart that Brenna had been wearing when she entered the prison, and held it out to her. "If you were Sarcopian, you would be permitted to wear a token badge. Since you are an Outsider, I suppose this will do."

"Thank you," Brenna breathed in heartfelt gratitude.

Tah'at turned and left the cell. She motioned to the guard, who stepped forward again, closed the cell door, and looked expectantly at the Eldress.

"Bring her food now, but none in the morning," Tah'at told him. "After she has eaten, turn the lights out so she may sleep. She will need her strength, and I doubt that she will be able to keep anything down in the morning."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Seven**

A messenger dressed in a Clan Tahl uniform had come to Sah'vo's uncle bearing a pair of loose draw-string pants, a pull-over tunic-type top, a pair of soft-soled shoes–––all in the same pale green Clan Tahl color–––and a message. The message was for Luke to put on the clothes and for Luke and Sah'vo to appear at the Clan Tahl main complex at first light.

A couple hours before dawn, Luke rose, showered, and changed into the Clan Tahl garb as Sah'vo advised him to do. Then he and Sah'vo boarded a skyhopper shuttle, piloted by a uniformed Clan Saht pilot, and they were at the front entrance to Clan Tahl main complex well before the sun rose.

A dozen guards led Luke and Sah'vo to a large empty, room and left them there. The room had a single door and windows along one wall that overlooked another, larger room that was about the size of a gymnasium. The room Luke and Sah'vo were in had a couple of chairs facing the windows, but no other furniture. Luke turned to his friend with a question in his eyes, but Sah'vo could only shrug. He had no idea what the Clan Tahl planned.

The large room below was also empty. It had six doors at the lower level across from Luke, and one door at each of the short ends. Since there was another glass-enclosed room at the upper level of the long side of the room across from Luke, he assumed that the symmetry continued and there were also probably six doors below the window wall of the room he and Sah'vo were in.

Luke sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh. If it weren't for Brenna and the fact that he had given his word to Sah'vo and to Sah'vo's elder, he'd have been long gone by now. But even if Brenna had not been acting as a hostage to him, he'd honor his pledge to Sah'vo and the Clan Saht, all of whom relied on Luke's keeping his word to preserve their own honor, however they defined such an intangible concept. He wouldn't allow their lives to be ruined for his sake, especially not after they had genuinely tried to help him. That was what honor meant to _him_, and it had nothing to do with complying with a system of 'justice' that was so utterly ridiculous.

Unfortunately, Brenna's sense of honor did, which was why they were both in this fix to begin with.

Movement in the room down below caught Luke's attention, and he stood up again and moved to the window to see what was happening.

The doors the far side had opened simultaneously, and six hooded figures dressed in robes of the Clan Tahl sea-foam green entered the room in ominous ceremony. Below Luke, another group of six hooded figures entered, and the two groups formed two facing lines in the center of the room. Each hooded figure carried a large staff topped with what appeared to be a small crystal ball.

"Oh, my friend," Sah'vo said in an anxious voice. "This looks very bad."

"What's going on?" Luke asked.

Before Sah'vo could answer, a door on one of the long ends opened, and a single guard escorted Brenna into the room. She was clothed in a simple shift made of the same pale seafoam-green material as the prison clothes Luke had been given to wear, and was identical to the clothing she had worn as a Council prisoner, except for the color.

"Oh, I do not like the appearance of this," Sah'vo said, squeezing his fingers repeatedly into nervous fists.

"What is going on?" Luke asked again.

Sah'vo shook his head. "I am sorry, my friend, I never wished for this to happen..."

"Sah'vo–––" Luke said, losing his patience.

"I will shut up now," Sah'vo said. "I have said too much already. But I want you to remember that I warned you how very bad it was to deceive the Council. Please do not hold me blameful for whatever happens here this day..."

"Look! Sah'vo–––"

Sah'vo finally quieted and looked at Luke.

"What in Hell is going on?" Luke asked, for the third time.

Sah'vo pointed to the hooded figures holding the staffs. "They carry pain-staffs. To be touched by one is a very terrible experience."

Luke's eyes darkened. He glanced at Brenna, then turned his attention to the Sarcopian. "Why is Brenna here?"

Sah'vo shook his head. "I do not know. It is most unusual. The messenger said this was to be _your_ punishment, not hers. But perhaps she is here as a witness..."

"Sah'vo, they can do anything they want with me. The transgression was mine. But if they intend to make Brenna watch..."

"As I said, my friend, I do not know why they brought her. We must simply wait and see what the Clan Tahl has in mind."

The door through which Brenna had entered opened again, and Eldress Tah'at arrived, dressed in the same ceremonial robes she had worn inside the Chamber of Councils.

Luke's brows furrowed. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Down below, Brenna looked up at the observation room and saw her father through the window. For a minute, father and daughter locked eyes. Then Tah'at came up to Brenna, who tore her eyes from her father and looked back at Tah'at.

"What must I do?" Brenna asked.

Tah'at took her by the arm and turned her to the facing rows of hooded clansmen. "You must simply stand before each pair of representatives from my clan. They will each touch you with the staff of pain, but once only. When you, or your father, have suffered every touch, the sentence will be carried out. None have been able to endure the touch of Clan Tahl and remain standing. However, you must rise to your feet again before the next touch to show that you are still willing to take the place of your elder. If you fail to stand before the next pair of representatives, your father will be summoned. Do you understand?"

"I...guess so," Brenna said slowly. She took another breath. "Let's get it over with, then." She glanced up at the guard who stood waiting for her, then walked with him to the far end of the gauntlet. She stopped with him, and he nodded her forward, then stepped away.

Brenna closed her eyes briefly to steel herself, took another deep breath, and stepped forward.

Then two white-hot balls of liquid fire touched her on the back.

It was sheer agony. Brenna screamed and arched against it. The pain lasted only a moment, but it felt like an eternity. When it ended, she sank to her knees in surprise and shock. She'd never experienced anything like that before.

The two clansmen who'd touched her raised their staffs in unison, did an about-face, and marched out of the room, leaving Brenna gasping for air on her knees, with her eyes closed, and her hands pressing against the small of her back where she'd been touched.

Upstairs, in the observation room, Luke saw Brenna fall to her knees, and the two clansmen turn and leave the room. "Sweet Deities! They _are_ doing it to her!" Then he saw the pain on Brenna's face as she looked up at the next pair of clansmen in the corridor they had formed, and that was all he needed to spur him into action.

He turned and strode purposely to the door and tried it, but it was locked, of course. He threw his weight against it, but it didn't budge. He reached out to touch the lock with his mind, but he was unfamiliar with the design, and it would take hours to figure out.

Sah'vo's whispered, "Oh, no..." caused Luke to look back at his friend. Sah'vo's hands and face were pressed against the glass. Luke abandoned his attempts on the door and rushed back to the window to see Brenna push her hands against the floor and stagger to her feet. She was brought back down when the next two staffs were lowered onto her shoulders.

Luke felt his anger rise. As soon as the second pair of executioners had fulfilled their task and turned away, Luke was searching the room for something he could use, anything that might help him break out of there and put a stop to what was going on down below. He picked up one of the chairs and flung it against the window with all his might, but did not succeed in putting even a scratch in the thick plexiglass. The chair, however, lost a couple of legs.

In the room below, a dull _thud_ caused Tah'at to look up. She saw Luke fling the chair against the window once more, saw what was left of the chair splinter, and then saw Luke throwing his own shoulder against the transparent plasticene. She nodded to herself. She'd been expecting this sort of reaction from the father. But it was the daughter that interested her more at the moment. Brenna had buckled under the pain, and knelt with her head touching the floor. She was sobbing now, not unusual for anyone who ever experienced the touch of the clan. But she slowly struggled to lift her shoulders off the floor and raise her head. She trembled with the effort it cost her, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled back to her feet. She lurched to the right and staggered to keep from falling. Then she found her balance and straightened slowly, trembling and crying.

In the observation room, Luke forced himself to watch as Brenna fell for a third time. This time, she went sprawling not to her knees, but to her stomach, then curled into a tight fetal position. Luke willed her to stay down, and went to the door to try some telepathic suggestion on the guards.

Outside the observation room, one of the guards blinked. He started to reach for the handle of the door, but one of the others saw him move and grasped his hand. The affected guard shook his head to clear it, and the other guard motioned for another to take his place.

Down below, Brenna lacked the strength to rise again. Her trembling had escalated into a shiver, and her sobs mingled with moans.

Tah'at watched her impassively for a few minutes, then asked, "Can you stand?"

Brenna gave her head a tiny shake, unable to answer with her voice.

Tah'at looked at the guard. "Send for her father," she commanded.

Somehow Brenna found a whisper still left inside her. "No!" she gasped, turning her cheek to the floor. "No! I can...I can do it...Just...give me a minute."

Tah'at signaled for the guard to wait. Brenna pulled one knee underneath her slowly. "Just...give me...a minute," she said again. Somehow, she dragged the other knee up underneath herself and dragged her hands inward until they were underneath her shoulders. She then pushed her shoulders off the floor. She lifted her head last. She panted with the effort and paused for a second on her hands and knees. Then she lifted her eyes and groped for one of the staffs being held by one of the remaining punishers, and used it to pull herself to her feet. Once she was standing, she checked her balance, then carefully let go of the staff. Her face was white and wet with tears, but her eyes were determined.

Luke, meanwhile, had finally realized the impossibility of trying to stop what they were doing to Brenna. He watched in grim silence as the staff Brenna had just used to support herself now turned against her, and she collapsed to the floor once more.

Sah'vo moved quietly to stand beside him. "My friend," he said softly, "I know it is difficult to see the good in a situation like this, but observe that the correction is nearly over."

"That's not 'correction'," Luke muttered. "What that is, is torture."

Sah'vo accepted the criticism. "At least they touch her only once with each staff, and they allow her the dignity of standing before her punishers. See? They do not touch her while she is incapacitated. I must say, it is most unusual for a clan to do so. For an offense to be so great as to merit the touch of the clan, it would be much more likely for her to be treated like a rabid animal, unworthy of facing its hunters–––"

"–––Sah'vo," Luke interrupted, his eyes never leaving his daughter. "Shut up!"

It took longer for her to get up each time. She was weaker than she had ever been in her life, and drenched with sweat. Still, she willed herself to rise. Two more pairs. Just two more pairs. Slowly she dragged her legs underneath her stomach. She was shivering violently now, and was vaguely aware that she was probably going into shock. _Not yet_, she told herself. _Not yet._

There was a time when she might have been able to shield herself from the pain, to block some of it. But when her powers deserted her, so had that ability. Then, almost as soon as that thought occurred to her, it also occurred to her that using the Force to lessen the punishment would be cheating. Then she decided she didn't care. She'd give just about anything for the ability to do a little cheating right now.

And then it occurred to her that her father might be able to block some of the pain.

Maybe. Might. Maybe not. She shook her head. She didn't know for certain, and she had to finish this. He had perpetuated the lie for her sake.

Her legs were so weak they collapsed almost as soon as she gained them, but held her long enough for the next pair of clansmen to do their job, and the pain followed her to the floor. Her scream had become no more than a cry, and that became a wail. The wail became sobbing, and her shivering body refused to uncurl out of its fetal position.

There was only one more pair of clansmen left in the gauntlet. On the floor, Brenna could not even look at them. Her body was totally unresponsive, as if she had undergone a massive electrical shock that shorted out all her neural connections and left her muscles twitching helplessly. And despite the temperature of the room, she was freezing.

Maybe she should let her father take the last two touches. She didn't think she'd survive any more. And after all, she had taken all the others for him. But she didn't care about surviving. Not really. She'd rather die than face that pain again.

And then she remembered Tah'cher, what he must have suffered. This was probably nothing in comparison. And her father. This punishment was his because of _her_. He'd lied to protect _her_. She couldn't let him suffer on her account, even if he _could_ block it. And Rupert, who'd come after her on Croyus Four when all seemed hopeless, because he loved her. She didn't deserve him, but he loved her all the same. If she got through this, then maybe, just maybe, she'd be a little more worthy of that love. Or maybe not so much _more_ worthy, as a little less _un_worthy. And what about the baby, little Han? If she didn't do this, then he would grow up having a mother who was a weakling who couldn't bear taking her own punishment, the punishment _she_ deserved, not her father.

Her hand groped clumsily at her throat and found the lump where her locket lay under her shift. She grasped it through the fabric, and her fingers curled tightly around it as if it were a powerful talisman. She seemed to draw some strength from it. Not enough to overcome all her weaknesses, but enough to help her gain her feet.

"Dad, Rupert, Han." she whispered to herself, pulling her knees to her chest. "Dad, Rupert, Han." She pushed her chest off the floor and dragged one knee up so that the bottom of the foot touched the floor. "Dad. Rupert. Han." The other knee. The other foot. "Dad...Rupert...Han." She saw one of the pain staffs and groped for it with the hand that was not clutching at her locket. She pushed down on the staff to pull herself up, and slowly stood. Her back was still hunched like a cripple's. "Dad. Rupert. Han." Slowly she straightened. Her teeth chattered. She was freezing. But she let go of the staff she had used for support. "Dad. Rupert. H–––"

The blinding white pain came down on her again, and she could think of nothing else. When it left, she found herself on her knees, not on her stomach, still holding onto her locket through the cloth. But when she raised her head, she saw that the last two clansmen had turned and were leaving. It was over.

Brenna fell from her knees to her side. Her strength was completely gone. She lay collapsed on the floor, unable to stop either the tears or the shivering that had taken over her. But unexpectedly, through her tears, she started laughing. The sound was alien even to herself, but she couldn't help it. She'd been afraid, as afraid as when she'd found Etan Lippa with Tah'cher, but she'd done it. She'd taken every touch. And now, it was over.

At a signal from Tah'at, the guard pulled Brenna to her feet and supported her. She made a feeble attempt to walk, but her legs gave way beneath her, and she would have fallen again if the guard hadn't had a strong arm around her waist and pulled her left arm over his neck. Her right hand still grasped the locket. The guard carried her that way to the door through which Brenna had first entered, but paused before Eldress Tah'at. Tah'at looked at the weak, crying, trembling young woman without flinching and saw not just the aftermath of pain, but also a glint of triumph in Brenna's eyes.

Eldress Tah'at unfolded the blanket she'd been holding and put it around Brenna's shoulders. "Take her back to her cell," she said. "Give her hot liquids and watch her closely. If she goes into shock, call the medics. Otherwise, once she can stand, let her take a hot shower. She may have food afterwards, if she cares to eat."

The guard inclined his head in assent, then left with Brenna. The old woman stood alone in the empty room. For a moment, she didn't move. Then she looked up at the observation window.

There was one thing yet to do this day.

Luke paced back and forth in the observation room like a lab animal with its brain wired for illegal experiments. He ached to murder someone, but the only other person in the room was Sah'vo. On the other hand, Sah'vo was trying his patience by yammering non-stop about how important it was for Luke to accept what had happened and not to make matters worse by speaking without leave or arguing with the Eldress, who would most assuredly come in the very near future.

Finally, the door slid open. Eldress Tah'at entered the observation room and signaled Sah'vo to leave with a quick movement of her head. Sah'vo gave his friend an apologetic look, and then exited the room. Luke remained silent, as Sah'vo had warned him to do, but his teeth were clenched so tightly that the muscles in his jaw pulsed.

The door slid shut again after Sah'vo was gone, and Eldress Tah'at approached the Jedi Knight, who stood at attention as if he were a prisoner of war and the old woman was an enemy general. Tah'at walked a circle around the silent soldier, studying him from all sides. She regarded the broken chair on the floor briefly before raising her eyes back up to Luke. A slight twitch seemed to touch the corners of her mouth just once. Then she said, "Since you have such an obvious dislike for chairs, you will remain standing whenever you are in the presence of Clan Tahl."

Luke said nothing.

She went on, all traces of humor gone now. "For breaking our laws, defiling our customs, and violating your oath, the Clan Tahl has passed sentence. For the first part, for the pain you have caused us, we have returned pain. You were to know the touch of Clan Tahl directly, or through one of your clan. That part of your sentence has been carried out. Do you have anything to say?"

"Oh, yeah," Luke muttered.

"You may speak freely. I give you leave."

Luke pointed to the window and the room below angrily. If he had leave to speak freely, that was exactly what he would do. "That was uncalled for!"

"Was it? It was the right of my clan to decide on a fitting punishment."

"The transgression was mine, not Brenna's!"

"So it was. She bore your pain for you. We gave her the choice, and she chose to do so. It was her choice. We did not force her."

Luke wanted to strangle her, but unfortunately, throttling little old ladies was not acceptable behavior for a Jedi Knight, even under the present circumstances. "If you understood anything at all about Brenna, you would know that if you give her a choice like that, of course she's going to take it!"

"Naturally. Your punishment was to watch."

Luke stared at her. "You _knew_ that she would?"

The old woman returned his gaze unflinching. "It was very easy to decide what your daughter's punishment would be. Yours was more difficult to determine. There are some in my clan who would have had you put to death for what you did. Perhaps you will not believe this, but I was one who argued against that. In the end, it was decided that this would hurt you in a way that nothing else could."

"You and I both know Brenna doesn't deserve that," Luke said grimly.

"Whether she does or not is irrelevant. But _you_ did, and she chose to take your place. Yet if you outsiders are so fond of suffering, be comforted. Your punishment is not over, only the one part. There is more yet to come."

Luke started. "You're not going to put her through that _again_?"

"Who is to say? The answer to that may depend upon your own behavior. If you prove as stubborn as some of my clan believe, if you do not accept the rest of your punishment with a grace which I, though not some of the others in my clan, believe you are capable of, then it is our right to modify the sentence in any way we see fit."

The Jedi's eyes flashed. "I will never forgive you for this."

"Forgiveness is not yours for the giving. You forget who is in the wrong. That is the trouble with you Outsiders. You forget too easily, when it is no longer convenient for you to remember. Honor our customs and our laws and your oaths as long as it is convenient to do so. When it becomes _in_convenient, then forget them!"

"If it was _your_ daughter and _my_ world, you would have done the same thing I did."

Now it was turn for the old woman's eyes to flash. "You have raised but one child. I have raised six children. All of them are happy, productive, honest adults who honor their word even when it is not bound by oath. So, too, are the children of my children and _their_ children. And I have no doubts that the children of my clan who are not yet grown will turn out likewise. Can you, in truth, predict that the future generations of your clan will fare as well? We teach our children the value of truth by dealing with their transgressions honestly and justly. Punishments are decided with careful thought, not in the heat of anger. No punishment is given without the child understanding _why_ it is given, and once the punishment is administered, the transgression is forgotten. This teaches our children to be honest. The crime for which Sah'vo was accused and for which you cleared him happened off world. Here, it never would have happened. Or if it did, Sah'vo would simply have said, 'I did not do it,' and he would be believed. Off world, his word is not good enough. You say our punishments are cruel. I say your way is a thousand times more cruel. Here, there is little crime. On your worlds, transgressions are dealt with so lightly that lying and cheating and stealing and even murder are commonplace!"

Luke paced a few steps. There was some truth to what Tah'at said, but there was also a flaw. "You say that your punishments are 'just'? How is it 'just' to punish Brenna for something _I_ did?"

"It is not for you to question the decision of the Clan Tahl. But because your interpreter is not here, I will tell you this much: Sarcopians do not normally punish another for one's transgressions, but in your case, it was the most fitting retribution. Your offense was great, one of the worst crimes imaginable on our world. You violated your oath and perpetuated a lie within the Chamber of Councils. You lied to protect one of your clan. Your punishment was to have that protection taken away. Brenna's answer was freely given. This time, it was _she_ who protected _you_. It was a fitting punishment."

"Punishment, yes. Justice, no."

"You are an Outsider. 'Justice' is a word that flows easily from the tongue, but has no meaning in the heart."

Luke was getting nowhere arguing with the old woman, but he tried once more. "You're wrong," he said. "Justice has a strong meaning in my heart. Brenna does not deserve to be punished for what _she_ did, let alone for what_ I_ did, and Sarcopian punishment has a reputation for being more than severe, of being…unjust. That's why I did what I did, and why I have so much anger here today. Brenna didn't deserve to go through that, any more than she deserves punishment for killing Tah'cher. I am sorry for your loss, but it wasn't Brenna's fault. You heard the testimony. Let me take her home, back to her husband and child. I promise you, neither one of us will ever set foot on Sarcopia again."

"You are asking for mercy, rather than justice."

Luke threw his hands up in frustration. "All right, then, yes! I'm asking for mercy."

Eldress Tah'at shook her head. "Her punishment has already been decided."

"Can't you see she's suffered enough?"

"Has she? And what about _our_ suffering? The pain she received for your transgressions is finished. Our pain continues. Do you think that I do not miss my husband every night when I am alone in my bed? Every morning when I do not see his smile? Every meal when his chair remains empty? Every time the sun shines and he is not here to say how fine a day it is? That is why it is our right–––our _right_!–––to decide a fitting punishment for the one who killed him." She stopped, seeming to realize how angry she had become. She took a deep breath, then spoke in a calmer voice. "You are finished for today, and may return with your friend to Clan Saht. But come here again tomorrow morning at first light. You will wear the same clothes you wear now. But you will wash them first, by your own hand."

She turned to go.

"Wait!" Luke called.

Tah'at stopped and turned around to face him. She arched an eyebrow at him, clearly unaccustomed to being given orders by a prisoner.

For Brenna's sake, Luke amended himself hastily. "I mean, _please_ wait."

Tah'at allowed a smile to touch her lips. "Better," she said.

"What are you planning to do with Brenna?"

Tah'at paused a moment before answering. "Normally, as Elder of your clan, it would be customary for you to know, and I would have told you her fate as soon as it had been decided. However, this also is part of your punishment. You are not to know your daughter's fate until her sentence has been carried out."

She knocked on the door with her fingertips, and it was instantly opened by one of the guards. But then she turned to regard Luke regally. "Every child, sooner or later, steals a cookie from the cookie jar. It is how the child is dealt with that determines whether the child grows up to be an honest man or a thief. Apply the rod, and he will be honest. Let the child go unpunished, and he will become a thief. The Clan Tahl does not raise thieves."

She started to leave, but Luke called after her, "Neither does the Clan Skywalker!"

She turned to face him again. "No," she agreed, but then added, "The Clan Skywalker raises murderers."

"Brenna is not a murderer."

"She is confessed by her own mouth. Have you not heard the testimony?" Tah'at turned away and started to leave once more.

Luke tried one more time. "Kill the child, and she will not grow up at all!"

The Eldress stopped. Without facing Luke she said, "That is true. But there is a world of difference between stealing a cookie and total disregard for our sacred laws, just as there is between accidentally stepping on someone's foot and murder." She looked at one of the sea-green clothed guards and said, "The prisoner is free to leave. This interview is concluded."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Eight**

Luke was sitting at the kitchen table resting his forehead in his hand when Sah'vo returned. Sah'ren greeted her husband at the front door and took his coat. "What did your uncle say?" she asked quietly.

"He will not question," Sah'vo replied. "Nor will he sanction my doing so. He says that if Brenna had accepted his offer of adoption in Clan Saht, it would be a different matter. However, he will not risk Clan Saht's standing in the Council for one who is not even a member of Clan Saht."

"Well, that is that, then," Sah'ren responded.

Sah'vo glanced towards the kitchen, where Luke had been when he'd left to speak with his uncle. "Has he not moved, then?"

"No," Sah'ren replied. "Nor eaten, nor drunk anything but a sip of water at my urging."

Sah'vo and Sah'ren entered the kitchen. Sah'ren went to the cabinet, took out a cup, filled it with water, and put it into the food automaton to heat. Sah'vo went to Luke and put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Luke?" he said quietly.

Luke lifted his head from his hand to look at him in question.

"Is there anything I can do for you? May I get you something, perhaps?"

"No. Thank you, Sah'vo. What did your uncle say?"

"He will not go nor allow me to go to speak with Eldress Tah'at on your behalf."

"I can't say I'm surprised. Why don't you…go do whatever it is you do this time of day, and convince your wife to do the same?"

"I will stay here with you." He shrugged his shoulders. "But I do not know what to say."

"There's nothing to say."

"Such a thing as happened today has never happened before on my world. I am sure there must have been a reason for their doing what they did."

"Oh, there's a reason, all right," Luke agreed grimly. "It just has nothing whatsoever to do with justice."

Sah'vo pulled out the chair caddy-corner from Luke and sat down. "I have never before questioned our system of justice," Sah'vo admitted. "I find myself beginning to do so now. Yet our system has stood the test of time."

"Just because something is old doesn't make it right," Luke reminded him.

Sah'vo nodded. "Perhaps that is true. But I have read articles written by Off-worlders who suffered from the crimes of others. They complained that the ones who were guilty were punished too lightly. I have also read articles about criminals who repeat their crimes even after they are caught and punished. And I ask myself, is it justice for the offenders to be punished so lightly?"

"Our system isn't perfect, either, Sah'vo. But think about what the Clan Tahl did to Brenna. Was _that_ justice? How is it 'just' to punish someone else for _my_ crime?"

"Yet they gave her the choice, did they not?"

"They knew she would take it. If it was Sah'ren, or Sah'mori, or Sah'born who had to suffer those pain-sticks, and they made _you_ the offer to take their place, wouldn't you do it?"

Sah'vo thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I do not think so. I would not wish for any of them to suffer, certainly, but I also would not wish for them to go unpunished and uncleansed."

Luke sighed. "'Cleansing' has nothing to do with what happened to Brenna. Assume that Sah'ren or Sah'mori or Sah'born is innocent. Would you do it then?"

"If they were innocent, they would not be punished."

"_Brenna_ was innocent of my crime. Yet they punished _her_ for it."

Sah'vo was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I see your point. And that is why I am troubled by what happened today."

"You _should_ be troubled," Luke told him.

There was another long silence. Finally, Sah'vo said, "My friend, what would you have me do?"

"Nothing," Luke replied. "There's nothing you can do. Nothing _I_ can do, either." He put his elbows back on the table and rested his forehead on his palms again. "That's the Hell of it."

Sah'vo watched him for a long moment, then said quietly, "I do not know what can be done. But what I can do, I will."

Sah'ren put the cup of tea she'd been preparing on the table in front of her husband. "What can you do? Sah'det has not given his sanction for you to go to Eldress Tah'at."

Sah'vo looked up at Sah'ren with eyes that were full of meaning. "I can go without his sanction," he replied.

Sah'ren's gasp of alarm caused Luke to look up. "You cannot!" she said. "Sah'vo, you must not even think it!"

"I _must_ go," Sah'vo answered. "Luke is my friend, and injustice has occurred. Do you not also question the Clan Tahl's punishment?"

"I question," she replied, "but here, in the privacy of our kitchen. I would not risk the unity of our family to do so publicly."

Luke's eyebrows lowered, and his steel-blue eyes fixed on Sah'ren. "What are you talking about?" he asked her.

Sah'vo spoke before she could answer, but not to Luke. He spoke to his wife. "Does not injustice for one on Sarcopia translate to injustice for all? Are we not taught that from the moment we are born? How, then, if the one is an Off-worlder? Does that not also hold true?"

Sah'ren turned to Luke desperately. "If he goes to Tah'at, without his uncle's sanction, the Clan Saht may disown us."

"No," Sah'vo corrected. "If I go as my own man, without my Uncle's sanction, and without yours, you and the children will not be affected."

"Not be affected! If the Clan Saht disowns you, our marriage will be dissolved! Our children will be fatherless!"

"What is she talking about?" Luke asked Sah'vo in growing concern.

Sah'vo regarded him calmly. "If I go without the approval of my elder, I go against my clan. They may choose to disown me. Yet again, they may not. If enough in my clan also question the justice of Clan Tahl, they may vote to let me remain a member of Clan Saht, and even perhaps not to punish me at all."

"Sweet Deities!" Luke exclaimed. "Sah'vo, _don't_! If you lose your family, it would be as bad as…as me losing Brenna. I appreciate your support, but you're just one man. You're not going to change the system. All you'd be doing is isolating yourself from your family."

Sah'ren interjected. "And without your uncle's sanction, Eldress Tah'at will not listen to you."

"She will listen," Sah'vo insisted. "Luke has no clan on Sarcopia to speak for him. I am the closest to clan that he has. Surely she will recognize that. And I must do what is right."

Sah'ren remained adamant. "You went to your uncle. That was the right thing to do. Is it right now to disobey him? If you had his sanction, it would be one thing. But is it right to lose your family for the sake of this–––this man who lied within the Chamber of Councils?"

Luke slapped the table to get Sah'vo's attention. "I'll answer that," he said. "No, it's not right, and I don't want you to risk losing your family. How do you think I'd feel knowing you were ostracized because of _me_? I appreciate your willingness to try, Sah'vo, but there's nothing you can do. You won't change anything. Think of your family. Is it worth losing them over something you can't possibly change? _I_ don't want you to. You've done far more for me than I ever asked for. Brenna's fate–––and mine–––are out of your hands. There is nothing more you can do. You are one man, and you are battling millennia of tradition and beliefs. Giving Brenna a 'choice' will be enough to keep most of your clan and the rest of Sarcopia satisfied that there was no injustice. _There is nothing you can do!_ Except preserve your family. You're lucky to have them. Don't throw that away in some…futile gesture of friendship. Your friend certainly doesn't want you to."

Sah'vo's troubled gaze moved from his wife to his friend. "You do not wish me to do what I can to correct the injustice to your daughter?"

Luke shook his head. "No, Sah'vo," he said firmly. "I don't. You can't do anything. The Clan Tahl has already made up their minds what they are going to do with her. Nothing you can do is going to change that."

"Listen to him, Sah'vo," Sah'ren urged.

Sah'vo looked doubtful. "If you do not wish me to go…?"

"No, Sah'vo. I don't!" Luke said.

Sah'ren stirred in the bed beside her husband. She took a deep breath, like a sigh, and opened her eyes. "You are awake," she observed.

"I am still troubled," Sah'vo replied.

"You have done what you can. Without your uncle's sanction, you cannot go to Clan Tahl. Your friend does not want you to. Honor and conscience are satisfied."

"Honor, perhaps, but not conscience. It still does not seem right…"

"They gave her the choice."

"Yes, but…how does that purify?"

Sah'ren kissed her husband on the cheek. "Talk to your uncle again in the morning. Perhaps he will change his mind."

Sah'vo was silent. He had already asked his uncle that question and had not received a satisfactory answer. After a few minutes, Sah'ren's breathing became steady. A few minutes after that, Sah'vo rolled out of bed.

Sah'ren stirred again. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Sah'vo kissed her on the forehead. "I cannot sleep. I am going to get some water and think some more."

"Do not stay up overlong," his wife advised.

Sah'vo smiled and caressed her cheek.

Tah'at was shaken awake by her granddaughter. "Yes, Tah'dori, what is it?"

"There is a man here to see you. He says he will await your convenience, but I believe you will probably want to see him right away. I apologize if this is not so."

"Who is it?" Tah'at asked sleepily. "Can he not go to one of his house elders?"

"He is not of Clan Tahl. He gives his name as Mar'vo, but I cannot imagine why one of Clan Marn would come at this hour. Also, I believe he is the same man who accompanied Elder Skywalker yesterday, which would make him of Clan Saht."

Tah'at was fully awake. "You were right to wake me, Tah'dori. Have him wait in my office while I get dressed."

Tah'dori nodded and started to leave.

"By the way, Tah'dori," said her Eldress, "his name is Saht Marvo. You may list him by his given name only in my appointment record."

Tah'dori nodded, confused, but trusting that her grandmother would explain all later.

Sah'vo paced nervously while he waited for Eldress Tah'at. Having made his decision, there was no turning back, and so he had decided to come here directly. He assumed correctly that the Clan Tahl prime offices, like those of his own clan, were open around the clock. But he had said he would await Tah'at's convenience. That they had wakened Tah'at, that she would see him immediately rather than have him wait until a more convenient hour, were indications of the seriousness of his actions.

It was not his nature to deny his clan and abandon his family. But neither could he sit by and let his conscience remain uneasy. He had to do this, despite his own fears and Luke's insistence that he didn't want him to come.

He worried how Sah'ren would take the news. He had not left a note; he didn't know what to say. She would find out soon enough, however. In the meantime, Sah'ren would assume he'd gone to talk to his uncle, and the Clan Saht pilot would bring Luke to Clan Tahl territory without him.

The door to Tah'at's waiting area opened, and the old woman entered. "This is an odd time to be visiting, Sah'vo," she said.

"I come as my own man," Sah'vo said, "not as a member of Clan Saht."

"I see. Am I to call you 'Marvo' then?"

"It would seem the appropriate thing to do, although I am quite unused to going without my clan name."

"Nor am I used to thinking of you as other than 'Sah'vo.' Perhaps, then, for the sake of convenience, and until and unless the Clan Saht decides to disown you, I may simply call you 'Sah'vo.' With the understanding, of course, that you are here as your own man and not as a representative of Clan Saht."

"That would be acceptable," Sah'vo said in something like relief. 'Marvo' by itself was like an alien name to him. He had spent his entire life as 'Sah'vo' and even on those few formal occasions where he had used both his clan name and his given name, he had been 'Saht Marvo,' never 'Marvo' alone.

The old woman hobbled over to the door to her office, and held it open. "Please come in."

Sah'vo stepped inside, and Tah'at closed the door. She made her way to the chair behind the desk, and indicated a chair in front of the desk for Sah'vo to sit. Sah'vo sat, somewhat nervously.

"I take it this visit does not have the sanction of your uncle," Tah'at said, just to make sure there was no confusion.

"I do not have his sanction," Sah'vo confirmed.

"You realize, of course, that I must inform your uncle of your call."

"You must do what you feel is right," Sah'vo replied. "As must I."

"Do you at least have the sanction of your household?"

"My…wife does not know that I have left the house. She would not approve of my coming here if she knew."

Tah'at's eyes pierced through him. "Sah'vo, I believe that the Off-worlder has corrupted your thinking. Not telling your wife of your intentions in a matter as serious as this is the equivalent of lying to her."

Sah'vo nodded. "I understand. But by not telling her, I leave her blameless of my actions. She did not know I was coming, therefore she is blameless in not trying to stop me. Nor do I believe that the Clan Saht will punish her for my actions, as Clan Tahl has done to my friend's daughter. She will still have our children, no matter what becomes of me."

Tah'at shook her head at his logic. "I believe that you are a good man at heart, but you fail to recognize the Clan Tahl's rights in this matter. Your uncle recognizes them. That is why he would not sanction your visit here."

"I cannot say for certain that the Clan Tahl _has_ rights in this matter. Not any more."

Tah'at studied him. "Your uncle has spoken of you with pride many times before this unfortunate incident with the Outsider. I must say, Sah'vo, it is highly unlike you to oppose tradition in this manner."

"Yet the cause warrants it. To punish the daughter for the crime of the father also opposes tradition, and the teachings I have been brought up to believe."

"We gave her the choice."

"Does it matter? I do not understand how punishing her in the place of her father, even giving her the choice, purifies either one."

"Tell me, did your friend ask you to come here?"

"No. In fact, he specifically asked me not to come. When he learned that my clan might disown me, that I might lose my wife and my children as a result of disobeying my uncle, he told me that my voice would not be heard. He said that giving Brenna the 'choice' of taking his punishment would be enough to satisfy the majority of my clan. He said that my coming here would be a 'useless gesture of friendship.'"

"Yet here you are."

"It is not out of friendship that I come, but out of concern for justice. How could I not come, knowing that my wife and my children live on a world where one is punished for another's offense? I have been brought up to believe that one person may speak in a loud voice. I have been brought up to believe that Sarcopia is the only world that understands justice. I have been brought up to believe that punishment is for the sake of the one punished, more than the sake of the one wronged. After what happened today, how can I _not_ come?"

Tah'at drew in a deep breath through her nose. "You are a brave man, Sah'vo, to risk clan membership for such an intangible concept."

"Do I come in vain, Eldress? Is my voice silent?"

"I cannot answer, Sah'vo. I do not regret our decisions in the matter of your friend or his daughter, if that is what you mean. Remember that they are Outsiders. _They_ were not brought up to believe in our system of justice. _They_ were not brought up to believe that punishment is anything more than pain and suffering. I understand your concerns, Sah'vo, but I do not share them."

"Is my friend correct, then, when he tells me that the Clan Tahl desires revenge rather than justice?"

Tah'at's face hardened into stone. "Be careful, Sah'vo. You border on insolence."

"Then explain to me how it is justice to punish the daughter for the crimes of the father. How can that be justice? How does that purify?"

"It is not justice, of course. And my clan believes that the father is beyond purification. He lies too easily. He displays no regret for his actions."

"Will you put him to death, then?"

Tah'at smiled. "No. We intend no physical punishment for him beyond what was already suffered by the daughter."

"Then the pain-sticks _were_ part of the daughter's punishment after all?"

"The pain-sticks were meant as the father's punishment only, for his lies."

"I still do not understand. Why inflict it, if this punishment was not justice, as you yourself just admitted?"

"It was not justice, no, but it is just. Our system is not flawed. The situation is unique. It calls for unique solutions. No Outsider has ever before been allowed to enter the Chamber of Councils, let alone been found guilty of perjury. No Outsider has ever before come to Sarcopia to be tried for murder. I myself proposed the punishments to be administered to father and daughter. I am satisfied that they are just."

"How can something be 'just' when it is not 'justice'?"

"You may learn the answer to that, Sah'vo, but not tonight. I will answer no more of your questions tonight." Tah'at stood up. "However, if you will be patient, you may find the answers you seek. Return to your clan. I must tell your uncle of your visit, of course. Out of consideration for the decisions your clan must now face in this matter, I will postpone our dealings with the Outsiders for one day. I do not know for certain what your clan may decide to do with you, but I will tell your uncle that the Clan Tahl is not angered by your visit. As for your questions concerning the Off-worlders, my advice to you is to be patient. If you are still dissatisfied at the outcome of this matter, I give you my word that the Great Council itself will hear your voice. The Clan Tahl stands by its decisions, and by its promises. It is said that one man may speak with a loud voice. Yours may be that voice, Sah'vo. But it is also said that only open ears may hear. It is our right to punish those who have wronged us as we see fit. Until the final sentences have been given to both father and daughter, I do not believe you will find any open ears."

Sah'vo rose, recognizing that his time with Tah'at was over. "I have risked a great deal in coming here, Eldress. I am not ignorant of that fact. Yet it is for my wife and children that I came. When injustice occurs, it affects everyone. When everything all our children have been raised to believe is a lie, is that not worse than an Outsider committing a lie within the Chamber of Councils, when his reason for doing so was to protect one he loves from injustice? Is the reason you do not answer my questions because you cannot? Are the Clan Tahl's motives so impure that there cannot be a satisfactory answer?"

"Now you _are_ being insolent."

"If it is insolence to wish to see justice served and injustice eliminated, then so be it. My friend believes that justice is more important than truth. I begin to believe that he is perhaps right."

"Sah'vo, let me ask you something. If it were up to you, how would you punish them–––both father and daughter? If you did not know the father personally, I mean."

Sah'vo hesitated for a brief moment before replying, "I would send them back to their home without punishment. He is an Outsider and does not understand our ways. She, as her father says, was a victim of circumstance."

Tah'at's eyebrows raised. "To send them home without punishment–––that would be punishment indeed!"

Two messages had arrived at Sah'vo's house by the time he returned. One was for Luke, informing him that Clan Tahl would postpone the second part of his sentence until the next day. The other was from Sah'vo's uncle, who wished to see both Sah'vo and Sah'ren as soon as possible.

As soon as the message from Sah'det arrived, Sah'ren realized where her husband had gone, and began to cry, and would not be comforted. Luke was alarmed at the news of Sah'vo's trip, and upon Sah'vo's return managed to thank Sah'vo and chastise him simultaneously. He hoped Sah'vo wouldn't be punished for his action. Freedom of Speech was one of the basic rights of the New Republic, but in this backward system, opposing one's clan was analogous to treason.

Luke had wanted to go with them, to give his two cents to Sah'vo's uncle, but Sah'vo insisted he stay home. "It is a clan matter," he insisted, and although Luke was his friend, he wasn't clan. All Luke could do was offer Leia's sponsorship and protection for Sah'vo and his family offworld if Sah'vo wanted it.

Out in public, on the mass-transport route, Sah'ren managed to get her sobs and her tears under some control, although it was obvious to anyone looking that both she and Sah'vo were extremely distressed. During the trip, Sah'vo murmured to her softly and tried to explain why he had done what he had, and reassured her that she would not lose her children, but Sah'ren could only mumble something incoherent about losing a husband.

Sah'vo and Sah'ren were holding hands as they entered Sah'det's office, which looked much like Tah'at's. The Elder motioned them to two chairs across from his desk, and husband and wife sat down, still holding hands. Sah'det took his own seat, and sighed.

"I do not know where to begin," he said. He paused, not having any further words.

After a moment, it was not Sah'vo, but his wife who broke the silence. "Elder, may I speak?"

Sah'det nodded permission, and Sah'vo looked at her in puzzlement.

Sah'ren took a deep breath. "Elder, my husband is a good man. What he did, he did out of concern for justice, which affects our clan, and all clans on Sarcopia. I, too, question the judgement of Clan Tahl, but I lacked the courage to say so publicly."

Sah'det's brows raised as he looked back and forth between husband and wife. "I heard from Elder Tah'at that Sah'vo did not have your sanction for his visit to the Eldress of Clan Tahl. Is this information incorrect?"

"The information is correct," Sah'vo said, squeezing his wife's hand in reassurance. She had questioned privately, but not publicly. She would not be punished for his actions.

"It _was_ correct," Sah'ren replied. "I had not given my sanction then. I give it now. My husband was not wrong to go Eldress Tah'at." Sah'ren turned to her husband. "I am sorry, Sah'vo. I should have given it."

Sah'vo's expression was a mixture of gratitude and worry. He squeezed Sah'det's hand and looked up at his uncle to try to salvage what he could of his wife's life. "Uncle, she had no knowledge that I would go. She is blameless."

Sah'det studied them for a moment before asking, "Sah'vo, do you wish to leave Clan Saht?"

Sah'vo looked down briefly before meeting his uncle's eyes. "No, Uncle, I do not."

"And you, Sah'ren?"

Sah'ren drew in a deep, shaky breath. "No, Elder. Nor do I. But if the Clan Saht disowns my husband, it disowns me, as well, and by law, our children with us. I will go with my husband, and raise our children offworld, and teach them what a brave thing their father has done."

Sah'det smiled. "Yes, it was brave. But there will be no need to raise your children offworld when you and they have a clan home here."

Sah'vo and Sah'ren looked at each other in sudden hope and surprise.

The Elder continued. "Nor will you be punished greatly. I believe that the sub-elders will agree with me in that. Your motives were pure, even if your wisdom was lacking, and Eldress Tah'at assures me that neither she nor her clan were greatly embarrassed by your questions. I believe that your lack of wisdom stems from a lack of knowledge of how the Great Council functions. I believe that this may be remedied by more thorough study of our system. Sah'ren, I believe you may also benefit from such study. That will be my recommendation to the sub-elders in this matter."

Sah'vo switched his gaze from Sah'ren to his Uncle. "You are not angry with me?"

"No," the Elder replied. "You see, Sah'vo, you are not the only one with questions. Yet I cannot commit the Clan Saht to stand behind one who is not a member of Clan Saht, not without the proper discussion and vote. Our Council acknowledges your friend's crime, and his daughter's. Our Council acknowledges the Clan Tahl's right to punish. Our Council does _not_ recognize your friend as a member of Clan Saht, and therefore I could not question or give sanction for you to do so. In addition, Eldress Tah'at specifically told me that her clan desired to exercise their right of silence until the sentences of the father and daughter have been carried out. It is not a common practice, but it is a right, which even Clan Saht has exercised, though not in many generations."

Sah'vo drew in a breath. "Yet my friend has stated that no one on Sarcopia will care what happens to two Outsiders, and that a single man could do nothing even if he did happen to care. And you yourself said that you would not let me pursue the issue because neither Luke nor his daughter are members of Clan Saht."

"For that, Sah'vo, I find I must apologize for not making myself clear. By law, the sentences of your friend and his daughter must be recorded at their conclusion, along with a brief statement as to its purpose, in the Hall of Records, as any case involving the Great Council must. You see, Sah'vo, on Sarcopia there is a check and balance in all things, even in this. Yet I shall keep an eye to the Clan Tahl's dealings with the Skywalker clan, and hold the Clan Tahl accountable at the end. If I–––and you!–––are dissatisfied with their account, we may bring the Clan Tahl before the Great Council, and they will answer. That is within my power as an elder, and as much as I can promise."

Sah'vo nodded.

"There was, however," Sah'det went on, "another wrong committed by your actions of this morning. I do not speak of your visit to Clan Tahl itself, but of your making the visit without even the knowledge and consent of your wife. By doing so, you lied to her, and broke the vow you took upon marriage, thereby weakening the bond of your relationship."

Sah'ren spoke up. "Elder, my lack of consent was due to my lack of courage, and to my stubbornness, not to disagreement with my husband's motives."

"Yet I did go without your consent," Sah'vo said gently.

Sah'det coughed for attention and rose to his feet. "Then since you are both at fault, and since the matter affects none but yourselves, I will let you decide each other's penance. You, Sah'ren, must decide your husband's penance, and you, Sah'vo, must decide your wife's. I shall consider the matter resolved as far as the larger clan is concerned. Sah'vo, I trust you have seen that Eldress Tah'at will not answer your questions, as is her right. Yet at the conclusion of this matter, if you are still unsatisfied, you will be given voice before the Great Council. And Clan Saht will stand behind you."

Sah'vo and Sah'ren also stood. "Thank you, Uncle," Sah'vo said. "If you treat my friend as if one of Clan Saht, then I will be satisfied."

"Be careful, Sah'vo. If Clan Tahl had treated him as a Sarcopian, he would be dead now. But Clan Saht will treat him and his daughter as…as two Outsiders whose welfares are important to us. The Clan Saht will take an interest in their case. Since Elder Skywalker is your friend, we will rely on you to be our representative. You may call on me at any time to discuss this matter."

"Uncle, again I thank you. Your wisdom is not lost on me."

Sah'vo bowed, Sah'ren nodded, they turned, and hand in hand they left the office. Once the door had closed, Sah'ren said, "Sah'vo?"

"Yes?"

"I will…bring the children home today. They should be near their father."

Sah'vo grinned. "And their mother. Thank you."

She smiled back. "Now. About your punishment. Since your going off without telling me weakened the bonds of our relationship, I think you should serve a sentence that would strengthen them again."

"That would only seem right," Sah'vo replied.

"I am glad that you agree. I should think…a very long backrub would serve the purpose."

"Ah," said Sah'vo. His eyes twinkled, and he asked, "For me to give or receive?"

Sah'ren slapped his cheek playfully, just hard enough to make a noise but not hard enough to hurt. "To give, of course. Unless your punishment for me is the same, in which case you would both give _and_ receive."

"No, I had a different punishment in mind for you."

"What?"

He whispered the answer in her ear, and she smiled.

Before dawn on the following day, Sah'vo accompanied Luke back to the Clan Tahl's territory, but the guards barred Sah'vo and, without saying a word, made it clear that they wanted Luke to enter alone. They took him to a room inside the complex, and left him there. The only furniture in the room was a plain wooden table and a single chair. Luke stood ramrod straight, ignoring the chair.

About a quarter of an hour later, Tah'at entered the room alone. She studied him for a moment, a trace of that inscrutable smile on her mouth to find him standing instead of sitting, then crossed to the table and chair, and spread the piece of paper she'd been holding on the table. She then sat down in the chair, looked at Luke, and said, "Come."

Luke approached the table with a military stride. He saw out of the corner of his eye that the paper was actually a map, but he kept his eyes centered on Tah'at.

"Choose," she said. "Point to any city on this map."

"Why?"

"You've not been given leave to ask questions. Choose a city."

Luke glanced at the map just long enough to see that it was the continent of Sarcopia they were now on, and to see where the borders of Clan Tahl were marked. Not that he really cared, but he pointed to a city outside of the borders. "That one."

With difficulty, the old woman rose from her chair again. Luke offered no hand to help her. "Come with me," she said.

She took him outside, where a small intra-atmosphere shuttle waited. A pilot dressed in the now familiar Clan Tahl uniform was standing outside the ship, waiting.

"We go to Bah'n-St'al City." Tah'at told the pilot.

The pilot helped Tah'at up the step into the shuttle, guided her to one of the front seats, and helped her to sit. He glanced at Luke, then made his way to the cockpit. Luke did not sit, but folded his arms across his chest and spread his feet apart to help his balance. If he was supposed to remain standing whenever he was in the presence of the Clan Tahl, then that was what he would do, but he would do it with a vengeance.

The shuttle lifted. A slight imbalance in one of the thrusters caused it to shudder slightly, but Luke remained unmoved. Aside from Tah'at's directions, no word had been spoken since they left the room where Luke had been taken to wait, but after they lifted off and were well on their way to Bahn St'al City, or wherever the Hell they were going, Tah'at said, "You may now ask questions."

"Where are we going?" Luke asked.

"Where else?" she answered. "To the city you have chosen."

"Why?"

"For you to learn what life is like on Sarcopia."

"How is Brenna?"

Tah'at's eyes became cold. "You are forbidden to ask any further questions concerning your daughter. Anything else, you may ask freely."

Luke shrugged. He had no other questions.

For several minutes, the trip continued in silence.

Finally, Luke said, "All right. I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

Tah'at raised her eyebrows. "Should I be?"

"I might be, in your position. If I believed that someone like me was capable of killing with a thought."

Tah'at considered the question, but not for long. "Perhaps I might be," she said, "under different circumstances. If we did not have your daughter, I might have some fear of an Outsider who had such powers and who could not keep his oath. But we have in our possession the one you broke your oath to protect, and I do not think you would do anything to make her stay with us any more unpleasant than it already is."

"And if you didn't have her?"

"In that case, you would not be here now, and so the question is pointless." She was silent for a moment, then said, "Actually, the one who has more to fear on this venture is _you_."

"Oh? How's that?"

She tilted her head to regard him. "I am an old woman. It is quite possible that I could die of natural causes while in your company, and I don't think the Council would believe that you had nothing to do with it. Then the Clan Tahl _would_ put you to death, in the most painful, most miserable way possible."

The ship landed at a docking center. Tah'at pulled herself to her feet and hobbled to the door. Luke didn't offer to help. The pilot powered down and hurried to help the old Eldress down the steps to the ground. Luke followed her like a trained dog, but more like an attack dog than a pet, and one that was just as likely to turn on its master than to obey her command.

Tah'at led the way out of the docking center. Crowds seemed to part in front of them. Luke concluded that the other Sarcopians were reluctant to get in the way of a clan Eldress in full ceremonial robes and her criminal attendant. Either that or they recognized Luke as the Outsider who had defiled his oath, and were giving him a wide birth, just in case he was dangerous. Nonsense, of course.

Outside the docking complex, they were on the walk next to the street where speeders and other ground transports whizzed by. Pedestrians passed them with curious glances. Tah'at stopped suddenly, turned to Luke, and said, "Choose a direction."

Luke shrugged. He didn't know what the point of all this was, and he didn't care.

"Choose," Tah'at repeated.

Whatever. "That way." He pointed straight ahead. If nothing else, there was a park in that direction, and as a general rule, he liked parks.

The old woman hobbled off in the indicated direction. Luke trailed after her, wondering if the point was to parade him around in his prison-wear to humiliate him. If so, it wasn't working. He didn't give a bantha's excrement about what the Sarcopians thought of him.

But then he remembered they could do anything they wanted with Brenna. It would be better for Brenna if he gave the Clan Tahl what they wanted with him. Played along.

He let his head fall, and when someone passed them, he turned his face slightly away. After a few minutes, he felt Tah'at's eyes on him. When the next Sarcopian walked past, he raised his hand to shield his eyes, for added effect.

Unexpectedly, Tah'at burst out laughing. In fact, she laughed so hard that she had to find a bench to sit down on because she could no longer stand.

It was not exactly the response Luke had been looking for.

"Oh, please," she gasped at length, wiping at her eyes. "No more. I beg you. Such false shame does not become you."

"I thought that was what you wanted," Luke said dryly.

Tah'at wiped her eyes again. "The Clan Tahl does not parade its prisoners about to no purpose. Oh, to be sure, there has now and again been a child whom we have shamed in such a manner. But you, I think, would not be shamed even if the Clan Tahl required you to walk these streets naked. One who would have a lie believed within the Chamber of Councils cares very little for the opinions of others."

"Then what do you want of me?" Luke asked. "Why did you bring me here?"

"What I want," Tah'at replied, "is for you to choose any residence we might pass, and to remember that you do so from your choice of any city on this land mass, from your choice of any direction we might walk in, and your choice of any such residence we might happen to pass. I brought you here to teach you something of our ways. I have been off-world, and I know something of the off-worlder ways. In comparison, Sarcopia is a paradise. You see only our punishments, and judge them to be harsh. You do not see the good that comes of them, or the pain you have caused us by defiling our most sacred institution. That is what I intend to show you today. I do not require your humiliation or your 'giving me what I want.' Only your cooperation."

Cooperation Luke could give. He would cooperate for as long as they held Brenna hostage. "Haven't I cooperated so far?"

"Only because you have been forced to do so. Yet it is enough. I would take such cooperation, however grudgingly given, over the play-acting you have just demonstrated, at any time." She broke into laughter again, and Luke could do nothing except stand and wait for her to finish. It took a while. Several times she quieted and then shook again with renewed mirth. But at last she stood, and Luke followed along cooperatively behind her. The occasional shaking of her old shoulders, however, told Luke she hadn't completely gotten over the entertainment he had given her.

They walked on for a while through the park. Then they came into an industrial district. "Any direction you wish to walk in," Tah'at reminded him."

Luke decided to get this over with as soon as possible. He took quick stock of his surroundings, and decided that the nearest residential section was straight ahead. He pointed.

As they walked, now that they were away from the docking center, Luke noticed that there were more Sarcopians on foot than in vehicles, and commented on that fact.

"Of course," Tah'at answered. "Only the infirm or those who must travel a great distance use speeders. Walking is good exercise. Did you know that the life expectancy on Sarcopia is approximately fifteen years beyond standard?"

No, Luke had to admit. He hadn't known that.

They were just starting to emerge from the industrial district into a residential district, when an old man came walking towards them from the opposite direction, apparently undeterred by Tah'at's robes or Luke's clothing. When Tah'at saw him, she stopped and waited for the old man, and so Luke also came to a halt.

The old man scrutinized Luke for a moment, then turned to Tah'at. "Good morning to the Eldress of Clan Tahl," he said. Luke thought that the voice was familiar. He must have spoken briefly during Brenna's trial.

"Good morning to you, Elder St'arn."

The old man glanced at Luke. "I see you are visiting our city on clan business. I would rather you came for more social reasons."

"So would I, St'arn."

"I must say that I am surprised to see that this man still lives. He reminds me of the flotsam that rises to the surface of still waters."

The corners of Tah'at's mouth twitched. "He is very like, I am afraid. But the Clan Tahl feels there may yet be hope for him."

St'arn seemed surprised. "If such as he may be redeemed, then mountains will talk to the seas, and I would know how such a thing may be done."

"Call on me next week," Tah'at said, "and I will tell you."

"And the young woman. May I ask what her fate may be?"

Tah'at glanced at Luke. "That you may know, when the sentence has been carried out."

St'arn bowed low and with a final glance at Luke, continued on his way. Tah'at resumed walking in the opposite direction, and Luke fell into step beside her dutifully.

After a second, she said, "You have a question?"

"All right," Luke admitted. "I do."

"Ask."

"What was that all about back there?"

Tah'at didn't bother to hide her smile. "St'arn just called you a piece of pond scum and said that if the Clan Tahl can redeem you, then miracles can still happen. He wants to know how it is possible to do such a thing."

"I got the 'pond scum' part," Luke said dryly, thinking he'd been called a lot worse, on occasion. "It's the 'redeem' part I'm curious about."

"Certainly. If the Clan Tahl thought you were beyond all hope, you would have been put to death and would not now be walking the streets with me."

"What about Brenna? Is she 'redeemable'?"

"That is not for me to say, or for you to ask. But I will tell you that there is a world of difference between perpetuating a lie, and murder."

Luke bit back his frustration. He was going to get nothing out of the old woman. Better to go through with this 'lesson' of hers with as much grace as he could muster, and hope his acquiescence would reflect well on Brenna. He realized they had come out of the industrial section, stopped and pointed. "That one."

"Excuse me?" Tah'at asked.

"You said to choose any dwelling along the way. I choose that one."

"Oh. Yes, of course." She nodded to the small house, sitting on a neat lawn and surrounded by a small garden. "Go try the door."

Luke's expression darkened. "I'm not in the habit of breaking into people's houses."

"Nor would I allow you to do such a thing. I simply ask you to try the door, not to enter, and then tell me what you find." She began walking again.

Luke shrugged to himself, then went up the walkway and tried the handle. To his surprise, it turned easily in his hand, and the door came partway open. He closed it again, then jogged to catch up with the Eldress.

"Well?" she asked.

"It was unlocked," Luke replied.

"Choose another," she told him.

He sighed and decided to get this over with, whatever it was, as quickly as possible, and pointed to the next closest residence along the street.

"Try it," she said.

Luke did as he was bid, still feeling a little uncomfortable at even this minor intrusion at Tah'at's request. This time, he only gave the knob a slight turn, not enough to open the door, just enough to test it. Then he dutifully returned to his keeper. "Also unlocked," he said.

"Choose any passerby and ask that person whether the door to his or her household is ever locked."

"Fine," Luke said. The first passerby was a woman, probably in her late thirties by standard measurement, with two young children, one holding onto each of her hands. Luke stepped out towards her, not enough to bar her way, but enough to make it clear that he wished to stop her. "Excuse me."

The woman stopped, taking in his prisoner's garb and glancing at Tah'at, who gave her a single nod. Luke could almost hear the question and answer between them. _Is this...? Yes, this is the Outsider who broke his oath. The piece of pond scum._ Then the younger woman looked back at Luke, her face candidly curious, but said nothing. The two children stared at him with open mouths. Here was a prisoner of Clan Tahl, stopping their mother on the street.

Luke gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Although he was a criminal in Sarcopian eyes, he was not dangerous–––‑at least, not to nameless mothers on the street and their children. "I wonder if I might ask you a question."

"Certainly," she said.

"Do you, uh, ever lock the door to your household?"

It was probably the most bizarre thing he could have asked, especially coming from an Off-worlder. But she answered in the same tone she might have used had he been a Sarcopian asking directions to some local attraction. "No, of course not."

Luke clarified the question. "Even at night? Or when nobody is home?"

"No, never. Only the doors within the prisons have locks."

Luke was more surprised by the answer than she appeared to be by the question. But he recovered his manners, gave a slight bow, said, "Thank you, ma'am," and stepped aside again.

"Well?" Tah'at asked, when the mother and her children had gone. "What do you think of Sarcopians now?"

Luke worded his answer very carefully. "I think that...Sarcopians are very trusting."

"Very good," said Tah'at. "That was part of your lesson for today. Can you say as much for Off-worlders?"

"No," Luke admitted honestly. "Not the majority of them, anyway. And the ones who _are_ that trusting are probably fools."

"Now," said Tah'at, stopping and pulling Luke to one side of the walkway, "study the faces of the passersby. I am not fully acquainted with these Jedi powers of yours, but our library sources state that some of your sort have been able to read emotions and thought. If you have the ability to read emotions, you may do so, but I would not have you invade their privacy any further by reading their minds."

That much, Luke could agree with. He didn't like to probe without permission or absolute necessity. But emotional states were much closer to the surface, and he had no objections to reading a few.

And while he was at it, he tried reading Tah'at again, but once more could get nothing from her.

After a few minutes, his eyes refocused, and he turned to her. "They seem content," he said.

"So..." Tah'at said, "by your own observations you see that the people of Sarcopia are trusting, that they are content, and that they do not fear to leave their doors unlocked, even at night."

"All right," Luke acquiesced. "Maybe you've got a good thing going here. Good for Sarcopians, anyway. And if the rest of the galaxy followed your example, maybe good for the rest of the galaxy, too. But the rest of the galaxy isn't like your world. You don't have any Etan Lippas here. You don't have to protect your children from enemies who can sense them from half a galaxy away."

"And did you do such a good job or protecting your child? Your Etan Lippa found her anyway, and here she is now, found guilty of murder and incarcerated in a Sarcopian prison."

"I tried to stop that, if you remember. She doesn't belong here."

"On the contrary, this is _exactly_ where she belongs. She _wants_ the Clan Tahl's punishment. She will not rest easy until she has suffered every blow the Clan Tahl chooses to give her. And even if, by some magic or force of arms, you were to steal her away from our prison and take her to some other place before her sentence is completed, she would find a way to return. And if you took her to a place from which she would not have the means to return, you would do a far better job of imprisoning her than the Clan Tahl could ever do. And I doubt not that she would find ways of punishing herself that are far beyond our scope. Is not a living death far worse than death itself?"

"Wouldn't _you_ want to protect _your_ child, if you had a daughter in Brenna's position?"

"Brenna is young, but she is an adult. She is beyond your protection. And here, parents do not protect their children. They help them, yes, as best they can, to become happy, fulfilled adults, and teach them to understand danger. But once the child is old enough to understand the danger, the protection is removed." Tah'at suddenly changed the topic. She pointed to a building several blocks away that had a triangular white flag, with three equal sides, an isosceles triangle, fluttering from a flagpole on top of the building. "Do you see the building with the flag?"

"Yes."

"That flag is the symbol of our schools. The three points of the flag stand for body, mind, and spirit. Children in off-world schools are lucky to receive instruction in even one of those areas. Even the best of off-world schools only address two, and it is the rare off-world household that addresses all three at home. You will now choose any school in the city, and see for yourself how Sarcopians educate their children."

Luke sighed, and pointed the same school. "Let's go, then."

"Are you satisfied that this school is chosen at random from all the schools in the city?"

"I'm satisfied. Let's go."

They walked to the school as quickly as Tah'at's legs allowed, and entered through the front door. It was a two-story building, with only one lift–––not enough to serve an entire student population, but enough to accommodate students with special needs and old women like Tah'at. There was an office near the front door, and a white-clad woman wearing a token badge of yellow and green stepped out. "May I help you?"

"We are here to see the children," Tah'at said.

"Let me know if I may be of assistance." The woman said, and returned to her post in the office.

That, apparently, was the extent of the Sarcopian security precautions.

Tah'at turned to Luke. "Choo–––"

Luke raised a hand. "I know, I know. Choose a classroom."

"The younger children are on the first floor. The older ones are on the second."

"Something in the middle?" Luke suggested.

"Then perhaps one of the doors towards the end," Tah'at replied, raising her hand towards the hall.

Luke stopped before the last door on the right. Tah'at motioned for him to go inside, and he turned the handle.

Inside the classroom was a mix of the same old-fashioned architecture Luke had seen so far, but with top-of-the-line educational technology. The display at the front of the room had voice-reader and photocell pads. He recognized T-system computers, enough so that each student could have his or her own. He suspected they were tied to high-premium servers, but since the screens were turned off, it was impossible to know for sure. It was all very impressive, equipment-wise. Luke remembered a few Rebellion briefings where they would dearly have loved to have equipment such as this.

The children were gathered at the front of the room, about a dozen or so of them. Luke guessed they were about twelve or thirteen years old by standard measurement. The children were gathered at the front of the room, a trim, middle-aged woman among them, facing one boy who had been reading from a computer-slate. The boy stopped when Luke and Tah'at entered, and all eyes turned to them.

"Please continue," Tah'at said. She took a seat at the back of the room. Luke remained on his feet.

The teacher spoke a soft encouragement to the boy, who cleared his throat, and said, "And when Mil'no went to bed that night, it was _still_ raining. But the next day, when Mil'no woke up, the sun was shining, and there was steen for breakfast, and he wasn't late, and his mom and dad didn't forget to say 'good day to you, Mil'no,' and so that's what he had. The end."

The students and the teacher clapped with enthusiasm. Tah'at applauded with somewhat more decorum. Well, Luke decided, when on Sarcopia... He put his hands together softly.

"Bah'lim," said the teacher, "that was a wonderful story. Who would like to comment?" A few hands went up. "St'orn?"

One of the girls said, "I liked the part when Mil'no was walking to school, and the tech-droid landed in the puddle and splashed him."

"That was pretty funny, wasn't it?" said the teacher. "It's too bad Mil'no didn't see how funny it was. Anyone else?"

A boy raised his hand and said, "But he was lucky, too. Even though he thought it was a bad day, he was really pretty lucky."

"That's an excellent point, Jah'mel. Yes, he was lucky."

"It was only because Mil'no decided that he would have a bad day that he thought he had one," said a third student.

The teacher addressed the class. "Do you think it's possible for someone's state of mind to affect what kind of day that person has?"

Twelve heads bobbed up and down.

Another hand shot up. "Yes, St'een?"

The student turned to his classmate who told the story. "Bah'lim, I would like to draw a picture to illustrate your story."

The young author bowed his head gravely. "I would be most honored," he said.

The teacher smiled. "All right," she said, "you may talk among yourselves for a few minutes while I see to our visitors."

As the teacher extricated herself from her charges, Tah'at turned to Luke. "What do you think of our students?"

Luke shrugged. "They seem well-behaved. Otherwise...they're kids. Like kids everywhere."

"Not quite like children everywhere. I observed some classrooms off-world. A significant percentage of off-world children are extremely unhappy. Too easily moved by jealousy. Too easily moved by greed. Too ready to taunt and tease with cruelty. Or perhaps too shy and nervous even to ask a question or speak their minds. Some are even abused by their own parents. Here, there is none of that. Here, only those couples approved of by their Clan Council may become parents, and even then, they must complete difficult child-rearing courses before they may bear offspring."

"What, no accidental pregnancies? Or do you just euthanize unapproved babies at birth?" Luke asked, crossing his arms.

"Neither. Our young people are sterilized at the end of their common school years. It is considered a rite of passage, celebrated as part of becoming an adult. For those couples approved as parents, the process is simply reversed."

"Isn't that rather extreme?"

"Not at all. We have seen the effects of overpopulation. Sarcopia itself once suffered such a fate. In this manner, we maintain a stable level of population, in balance and in harmony with what our world can support."

Tah'at looked up at the teacher, who had been waiting politely to be recognized by the Eldress. "Good day to you, Teacher," the old woman said.

"Good day to you, Eldress," the teacher replied to Tah'at. Then she turned to Luke. "And to you. Welcome to my class. I am Bah'lini." Then she said to Luke, "May I offer you a chair?"

"No," Tah'at said, before Luke could answer. "You may not."

The teacher seemed to find nothing odd or unusual about Tah'at's response. "Well," she said, smiling. "Is there any way in particular by which I may serve you?"

"As a matter of fact," Tah'at replied, "there is. Would you ask the children, please, to summarize for this Off-worlder the needs of the soul?"

"I would be happy to," said the teacher. She returned to the students, and clapped her hands twice to gain attention. Immediately, every pair of young eyes was on her, and all talking ceased. "We have been asked to summarize the needs of the soul. Who would like to begin?"

Every hand shot up, and the teacher called on them in turn. "Jah'mel?"

"Strong Clan."

"And why is that important?"

"Because Clan nurtures us, and teaches us what is right and what is wrong."

"How does Clan teach us the difference between right and wrong?"

Another hand shot up, and the child was called on. "By listening to our questions, by helping us learn the answers, by praising us when we are good, and by punishing us when we are bad."

Sounded like good, old-fashioned propaganda to Luke. He wasn't overly impressed.

"What is another need of the soul?" asked the teacher.

Another student was called on. "Self-knowledge."

"And what does that mean, Bah'toi?"

"It means...knowing what you're good at, and knowing what you're not so good at."

"In other words, knowing your own strengths and weaknesses?"

"Yes."

"And why is that important?"

"So you can find your right place in the Clan."

"Very good. What is another need of the soul? St'arn?"

"Worthy goals."

"Can you give us an example?"

"Well...like contributing to the common good of the Clan. Or...developing a talent."

"Thank you, St'arn. Can someone tell me another need? Yes, Bah'lim?"

"Worthy deeds. It does little good to have worthy goals if the deeds do not turn them into reality."

"That's very true. All right, what is another need of the soul? Yes?"

"Celebration!" said the child who was called upon.

"Celebration of–––?"

"Of everything!"

The teacher laughed. "Well, not quite everything. What sort of things should we celebrate?"

"Things we accomplish, birthdays and other special days, sunny days, rainy days, being in your Clan, getting a new outfit–––"

"What if someone gets hurt on the way to school. Should we celebrate that?"

"No!" shouted the class in unison. A hand went up. "Yes, St'effi?"

"Celebration of the _good_ things."

"And what is the last need of the soul."

Another student answered, "Punishment."

Luke arched an eyebrow at that, but said nothing.

The teacher nodded. "Why does the soul need punishment?" She called on the student who wanted to draw the picture for the story being read when Luke first came in. "St'een?"

"Because punishment cleanses us."

The teacher called on another student. "Bah'tori?"

"Punishment also makes us look at what we've done, and change what's not good."

Tah'at turned to Luke. "What do you think?" she asked.

Luke shrugged. "Rote answers. You're not asking them anything that requires more than memorization, or that poses a moral dilemma."

"Be my guest," Tah'at said. "But remember that these are children."

Luke raised his eyebrows. Here he had a chance to teach the old woman something. He took a step towards the front of the room, then stopped, turned around, and came back. "No," he said.

"What?" Tah'at said in surprise.

"No. I don't want any of these children punished for giving an answer you don't like."

It was Tah'at's turn to raise her eyebrows. Then with difficulty she stood up and hobbled to the front of the room. The teacher watched in puzzlement as Tah'at threaded her way around small bodies to stand in front of them. "Children," she said, "this man would like to ask you some questions. I suspect they will be very difficult questions. They require honest answers, and nothing you say in response will be punished. Do you understand?"

Young faces scrunched up wondering what sort of questions they would be asked, and about half of them turned toward Luke, but the faces that were still turned towards Tah'at bobbed up and down.

Tah'at hobbled back through the children, and Luke strode around them to take her place.

"Kids," said Luke, "Eldress Tah'at was right. These _will_ be difficult questions. There is no right or wrong answer, as long as you tell me what you really and honestly think. You're going to have to use your imaginations. I want you to imagine that you and your family are going off-world, for a vacation or something, and–––"

A hand shot up.

"Yes?" Luke said.

"My family would never do that. We always take our vacations with my father's birth-clan."

In the back of the room, Tah'at covered her mouth with her hand, hiding a smile.

Luke's own smile was indulgent. "We're using our imaginations, remember? Just imagine that you're off-world. It doesn't matter what the reason is. Maybe it's a vacation, maybe it's something else."

Another hand shot up.

"Yes?" Luke said, calling on the little girl who had raised it.

"Which planet?"

"Doesn't matter," Luke replied. "An imaginary planet. Whatever you think a typical off-world planet is like. You and your family are visiting this off-world planet."

Another hand went up. Luke bit back a sigh, and covered it with a smile. Brenna had asked him a million questions a day when she was this age, but he wanted to get back to the point of his discussion. "Yes?" he asked.

"My whole clan, or just my immediate family?"

"Just your immediate family. Okay, kids. Let me finish, and then you can ask me all the questions you want."

The heads bobbed up and down, and the young eyes looked at him expectantly. Luke took in a breath. "Okay. You and your immediate family are off-world. And everyone in your family, except you, gets really, really sick. So sick, in fact, that they need a special medicine, and if they don't get this medicine, they'll die. Now, it so happens that this planet is the only place where you can get the medicine, but it's very, very expensive. It also happens that you know where the medicine is kept and how to get to it. You don't have enough money to buy it. And if your family doesn't get the medicine they'll die. So my question to you is, what would you do? Would you steal it? Now. Questions and discussion."

A hand rose. "Yes?" Luke called.

The young girl who raised her hand said, "I would ask for the medicine."

Luke nodded. "That's a good course of action. Okay, you ask. They say 'no.' They'll only give you the medicine if you pay for it. But you don't have the money. Now what do you do?"

A boy rose his hand, and Luke called on him. "I would contact my clan and tell them what was going on, and ask my elders for the money," the boy said.

"That's another good plan," Luke responded. "But let's suppose in this situation there's something wrong with the communications system, and you can't get an off-world link to Sarcopia. You're completely on your own, and time's running out. If your family doesn't get this medicine in the next few hours, they'll die. If you hesitate too long without making up your mind about the medicine, they'll die. What do you do? Do you steal the medicine?"

Another girl raised her hand, and Luke called on her. "Stealing is wrong," she said.

"Yes," Luke nodded. "Most of the time it _is_ wrong. But–––"

"My parents say it's _always_ wrong."

"Your…parents probably never faced a situation like this one. My question is, is it wrong in this situation? And even if it _is_ wrong, would you do it?" Luke called on another child.

"My clan would surely pay for the medicine later. I would tell the people on this world that, and ask them for the medicine."

"Good idea. But let's say they won't take credit. If you want to buy the medicine, you have to pay cash, and you don't have enough. Let's say, too, that there's no security whatsoever around the medicine. You could just take it, and walk away, and no one would ever catch you."

Young eyebrows furrowed.

"Could I borrow the money?"

"No. No one on this world will lend money to a kid."

"What about selling everything I and my family had?"

"You try that, but you still don't have enough money. This medicine, by the way, is way over-priced. It comes from a plant that grows abundantly on this planet."

"Could I make the medicine myself?"

"No. You don't have the right equipment. And, uh, you don't have enough time to make it before your family would die."

"But surely, if the medicine is so abundant on this world, they would not let my family die," one student said.

"One would hope that," Luke responded, "but the people on this imaginary planet are very greedy and stingy. They want all the money they can get, and they don't give charity to anyone."

Finally, one boy raised his hand and admitted that he would steal the medicine. "But," he added, "I would leave all the money I could in its place, and after my family was saved, I would go to the authorities and tell them what I did."

Luke asked whether any of the other children would do the same thing, and a few tentative hands raised. He looked at the students who had not raised their hands. "So the rest of you would just let your families die?"

One little girl started to cry.

"Enough!" Tah'at called from the back of the room, rising to her feet.

Luke raised a hand palm out to her to show that he would handle it. "Remember," he said to all the children as he put the hand he'd held out toward Tah'at on the top of the head of the little girl who had started crying, and knelt down to wipe her cheeks with his other thumb. "This is just an imaginary situation. It won't ever happen to you in real life. I just wanted to show Eldress Tah'at that extenuating circumstances can sometimes cause even the best of Sarcopians, like you kids, to do things others might ordinarily think were wrong. These questions were tough. But the situation was just imaginary, after all." He checked to make sure the girl had stopped crying, then noticed that the boy who had finally admitted he would steal the medicine had raised his hand. "Yes? Bah-lim, isn't it?"

The boy nodded that Luke had gotten his name correct. "_Could_ something like that happen?"

Luke hesitated the barest fraction before answering. "Here on Sarcopia?" He shook his head. "I doubt it very much. But something like that did happen to a young woman named Brenna. Circumstances forced her to do something she otherwise would never have done, just like the circumstances I've given in this imaginary case would force many of you to steal." _There_, Luke thought. He'd made the connection blatant, just in case Tah'at had missed it.

Tah'at rose from her seat and made her way to the center of the semi-circle of youngsters. "Children," she said, "Let me revise Elder Skywalker's scenario somewhat. Suppose this particular medicine were needed on the world by the people whose home it was, and stealing it for someone in your family would mean that someone else would die. How many of you steal it then?"

The children looked at each other, but none of them raised their hands. Tah'at waited a moment, then looked at Luke with an eyebrow raised. "You see?" she said. "We don't–––"

But Luke was studying the boy who'd been first to answer that he would steal, and held a palm out to Tah'at to interrupt her. "Bah'lim," he said, "why don't you give us your _honest_ answer?"

Bah'lim looked at Tah'at and then at his teacher, before returning his gaze to meet Luke's. "I…might," he said, and then looked down.

Luke's smile to Tah'at was triumphant.

The old woman's eyes pierced into the boy. "Bah'lim," she said, "would you confess your guilt afterwards?"

"Yes," the boy said immediately.

"And what kind of punishment would you expect to receive as a result of your crime?"

This time, the boy hesitated. His answer came out as a whisper. "Death."

"I see," said Tah'at. "So you would add one more to the death-count, not just those who were sick, but yourself as well."

"I…would not wish to live without my immediate family anyway."

"Bah'lim," said Tah'at, "I suggest you discuss your feelings about this question with your parents."

Luke shook his head. "You're implying that _your_ answer is the correct one."

Tah'at looked at him, then raised her voice to address the entire class. "I suggest that _all_ of you discuss this question with your parents. Ask them what they would do, and what they would wish for you to do. Understand that this question is entirely theoretical. It is a difficult question, but it is good to discuss difficult questions from time to time." Then Tah'at looked at the teacher. "Teacher Bah'lini, would you please provide follow-up discussion tomorrow on the question that was asked today, with special emphasis on the discussion with the family and whether or not any of the students change their opinions after such discussion. And noting that, because this is an imaginary situation, there is no right or wrong answer."

"Certainly, Eldress," said the teacher.

"Elder Skywalker will observe your class for the rest of the day, and for the next several days. He may even participate, if he wishes–––in fact, I insist that he do so–––provided he does not unduly frighten the children. Should he not comport himself appropriately, I wish to be informed immediately."

"As you wish, Eldress."

Tah'at turned her gaze back to Luke. "I will send someone to fetch you when school lets out. I think it would be good for you to see what Sarcopian schools are like, and I suspect that this class probably suits your level. You will stand throughout the entire class sessions, of course."

"Of course," Luke replied.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Nine**

The one thing Brenna had plenty of, at the moment, was time. The Clan Tahl had left her pretty much alone since her ordeal with the pain-sticks, and she had more time than she wanted. There were only three things she could do alone in her cell–––sleep, exercise, and think. When she could no longer sleep, she tried exercising. But she was still weak from the pain-sticks, and her muscles screamed protest when she tried to work them. That left thinking. And what she thought about most of the time was her father, Rupert, and the baby–––none of which cheered her because she worried about her father, she missed Rupert so much it ached, and thinking about the baby was unbearable.

So she tried to concentrate on the positive aspects of her situation, but she could only get so far with that. They didn't intend to starve her. That much seemed clear. So far, they had fed her regularly, and there didn't seem to be any indication that they planned to do otherwise. They had also provided her with a breast pump, stating that since she was still lactating and that their culture believed it was important for infants to receive the natural nourishment of a human mother's milk, it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Brenna had no objections. She had breast-fed little Han before she left, and had used a pump to save as much as she could. Somehow, donating to an anonymous Sarcopian baby made the separation from her own seem…a little less unbearable.

Also on the positive side, they let her shower every morning–––in fact, they required it–––and had even let her have hot water that one time. Aside from the pain staffs, there had not yet been any real punishment, and even the pain staffs had been her father's sentence. The thought of experiencing that again made her sick, but it would be no less than she deserved. Still, she tried not to think about it too much. Nor was it any use thinking about the "tasks" Tah'at had mentioned, since she had no idea what they might be, and she didn't like the possibilities her imagination came up with.

So she tried to think of nothing, nothing at all. But her thoughts invariably drifted back to her family.

Brenna was sitting on the edge of her cot in her cell with her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers interlaced, and her forehead resting on her hands. She looked up when she heard the footsteps. Maybe it was time for another meal to break the monotony. Then she rose to her feet when she saw who it was. The guard opened the door, then withdrew a respectful distance as the visitor entered the cell.

"Eldress Tah'at," Brenna said in acknowledgement. The arrival of the Eldress meant that her own punishment was about to begin. She wasn't anxious for it, but she had no desire to avoid it, either.

"I believe I will sit," the old woman said, waving a vague hand toward the cot. "These old bones prefer not to fight gravity too much."

"Yes, of course." Brenna lingered next to the woman as she slowly sat down, near enough to lend a hand if it was needed, then moved away when Tah'at was seated.

The old woman studied the younger woman, who stood at formal attention with her back at the wall. The clan resemblance to her father was more than just physical. "Are you afraid of me?" Tah'at asked.

"I'm…not sure."

The old woman's face cracked into a smile. "The honest answer is always the wisest answer. Come sit beside me."

Brenna obediently returned to the cot and sat down, leaving a space between them. The old woman closed her eyes for a long moment. Then she opened them and regarded Brenna with an expression of long suffering. "Your father," she said, "is an extremely stubborn man."

Brenna almost laughed, but stopped herself.

"Let us hope," Tah'at went on, "that you prove less stubborn." She took a breath and changed the topic. "It may interest you to know that your husband has petitioned the Clan Tahl Council for the release of you and your father. He is most persistent in his petitioning. One might even say...stubborn."

Brenna had mixed feelings about Rupert's petitions. Knowing Rupert wasn't going to let her go without a fight was both reassuring and worrisome.

"We have also received similar requests from members of the New Republic Senate, particularly from one Senator Organa-Solo."

"That would be Rupert's mother," Brenna told her.

"We are aware of that. But she has apparently convinced several other members of the Senate to petition on your behalf, as well."

"Would you like me to make a statement?" Brenna asked.

"It is not necessary. Sarcopia has never officially joined the New Republic. We are still considered a neutral world. There is very little the New Republic government can do, in any case. Economic sanctions would hardly affect us, as Sarcopia does almost all of its trading with other neutral worlds. And who wants to go to war over two convicted criminals? After all, you are freely confessed–––a fact which even your husband must bear witness to–––and your father broke our most sacred oath in the presence of the ruling Council of our world. No, all these petitioners can do is make requests, which they have done, and which the Clan Tahl is free to refuse, which we have done."

Brenna nodded understanding.

Tah'at went on. "But I have also received correspondence from a large number of other individuals. The most intriguing of these messages come from a Devon Martuk, who has become almost as annoying as your husband in the frequency of his messages. What interests me most is not the number, but the essence of the messages. Like your husband, he volunteers to take your place for whatever punishment we have assigned you, even unto death."

Brenna looked at her sharply. Rupert had done that? And Devon, too?

"Of course," Tah'at said, "the Clan Tahl will accept no such offer. The offer we made you was the first time such a thing has ever been done, and we have no wish to ever do so again. But unlike your husband, Mr. Martuk is willing to do this, he says, not for your sake, but for the sake of a dream. Can you explain this?"

"He's talking about the Center. He and I were working to establish a disaster-relief center on Croyus Four."

"Yes, that's what he told me. But he says that the only person capable of managing such a facility is you."

"That's not true. Devon's much better qualified to run the Center than I am."

"Are you saying that Mr. Martuk _lied_?"

Now Brenna did laugh, seeing the irony of both the question and her answer. "No, I'm saying that he's mistaken. Devon's more of a 'people' person than I am, which is what the Center needs. I'm better at managing resources, budgets, accounts-that sort of thing. But the truth is, there are no resources to manage. I've already exhausted every source of funding to be had. When Devon says that the Center is a dream, believe me, that's all it is. The most that the Center can ever become is a glorified Communications Sub-Station, and Devon's perfectly capable of managing that."

"I see. Well, thank you for clarifying that. The Clan Tahl would hate to hinder such a worthy endeavor."

Brenna wasn't sure how to respond, so she said nothing.

"But I am curious about something. Why Croyus Four? Why not someplace with less...negative association?"

Brenna spread her hands. "Just...because it was cheap, mainly. Nobody wanted it but me. For the Center, I mean. And...uh...one other reason."

"What is that?"

"Well...Croyus Four being what it is, I thought maybe...people who lost loved ones there during the Rebel Wars might...make a donation to the Center in the name of the one who died. I thought...you know, maybe we could put up a plaque or something."

Tah'at drew herself up and looked down at Brenna. "Isn't that rather insensitive?"

"I guess so. But the Center needs income to operate, and..."

"And you thought to exploit the emotions of the families and friends of the victims who died there."

"That...about sums it up," Brenna admitted ruefully.

Tah'at shook her head. "Well, I did not come to engage in idle chatter. I came to tell you the first of your tasks."

Brenna tried to steel herself. "What is it?"

"There is a custom among my people. At the time of burial–––at what you would call a memorial service–––the clan members tell stories of the one who has died. These stories are told to show how the one who is gone has touched our lives, to show that we are glad for the touching, and to share the grief at his passing. This we have already done in memory of Tah'cher. But this we will do again, in your presence. At your trial, you said that you did not know Tah'cher, did not know what manner of man he was. Your task will be to listen to these stories, and to learn what manner of man my husband was."

Tah'at paused, and Brenna's brows creased. "Is that all?"

"That's all. I do not think you will find it as easy as it sounds, and do not forget that your tasks will become increasingly more difficult. Also remember the penalty for failure. There is a reason for these tales, which you will learn before you are given your final sentence."

Brenna nodded grimly.

"I myself will tell you the first story. It is about how how we met, many years ago, when I was about your age, and Tah'cher was a student at the Council Center..."

Luke sat in cross-legged meditation position, trying to clear his mind. But as much as he tried, he could not clear his thoughts completely. Nor could he feel Brenna's presence at all, which was the purpose of this exercise. He hated being closed off from her, and longed for the way things were when she was little. She'd been so open, then, so easy to read, so warm, so trusting. He'd sacrificed much of that when he'd erased her memory, after her mother disappeared. It was one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made. He'd thought he was helping her, mistaking her insistence that her mother was still alive as denial, as a form of grief. And with her being just a child, she didn't have the words to form her Force-impressions into real thought that Luke could read. All he could get from her was a desperate desire to go looking for her mother. If he'd listened to her more, he would have had Briande back, and Brenna would have had both parents to love and protect her. Probably Brenna wouldn't even be on Sarcopia now.

All of those thoughts crept back into his mind again, and once more Luke tried to push them away. The past was the past, and it was no good wishing that things had been differently.

Yoda's words came back to him ruefully: _ Never his mind on where he was, hmm? On what he was doing!_ Luke could almost feel Yoda's little stick prodding him in the side to emphasize the words. The only difference was that this time, Luke wasn't looking to the future, to the horizon, but to the past. At least he'd gotten over his craving for adventure and excitement. That was something, he supposed.

He tried to get his mind back on the present, on what he was doing, which was trying to get some sense of Brenna through the Force. He took a deep, calming breath, and managed to find an instant–––just an instant!–––of clear focus, but there was nothing in the Force except the kind of calm, peaceful currents of the life-energy cycle. Somewhere, in the distance, an old man was dying. Somewhere else, a child was being born. Everything was in balance, in harmony. He felt a few fledgling ripples that indicated the usual percentage of individuals with some small Force-talent, but certainly not the kind of movement that Brenna's presence should generate. Just an old man dying, a new baby being born...

Thinking about the old man reminded Luke of Tah'cher, and he lost his tentative hold on the Force-reality, slamming back into physical world with the speed of hyperspace travel. He let out sound of frustration, and was just about to take another deep breath and try again, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Luke, my friend, are you unwell?"

Luke suppressed his sigh of frustration and opened his eyes. "No, Sah'vo. I'm fine. I was just trying...to meditate." He stood up without uncrossing his legs. "What's up?"

"Forgive me for disturbing you, but I had thought perhaps that you might be interested in attending a Clan Saht Council meeting. I was going to absent myself this time, but then I thought, perhaps you might prefer a Council meeting to remaining here all night, so I contacted my uncle, who agreed that you could come, provided Clan Tahl had no objections. _He_ contacted Tah'at, who gave her wholehearted approval and, in fact, _insisted_ that you attend. So rather than being merely invited, you are now _required_ to attend, and therefore I must apologize for being the instrument of this inconvenience if you did not wish to do so..."

Luke smiled. "It's fine, Sah'vo. I'd like to learn more about your clan, and would have accepted the invitation in any case. Should I change into Clan Tahl colors?"

"I do not believe that will be necessary. Eldress Tah'at did not require it. What you are wearing now will be acceptable. But we must go downstairs for supper, if you wish to eat before we go. I do recommend it, as Council meetings may sometimes last longer than one might wish. Sah'ren has baked fresh zimba, and it is always delicious when Sah'ren makes it. I have less luck with my zimba, but tomorrow, if Clan Tahl does not keep you overlate, it will be _my_ turn to cook, and I do make a fadka meat roll which is passable."

Luke smiled again. "Sah'vo, if I get Brenna back in one piece, I'd like to return here someday, and taste every dish Sarcopia has to offer."

"My friend, I would like nothing better."

Since Clan Saht territory boasted of an intricate mass-transit system, and since the Clan Saht equivalent of City Hall was too far away to reasonably walk, they took an automated hovercar to the Council Center. Sah'vo and Sah'ren sat together on one small bench, and Luke sat across from them, facing them.

Sah'ren touched the back of her husband's hand with the back of hers, and Sah'vo's fingers intertwined with Sah'ren's. "I hear," Sah'ren murmured, eyes shining, "that there is a Clan Parhn thief to be sentenced tonight."

Sah'vo's face lit up. "Truly?" He grinned at Luke, eyes dancing. "My friend, if that is so, then you are in for a treat. It is not so rare a thing, after all, but it will certainly make the evening more enjoyable."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked. Sarcopian sentencing didn't seem like anything to be enjoyed.

"Oh, don't _tell_ him," Sah'ren said, reaching over to pat her husband's leg with her free hand. "Remember your first Council meeting? Don't spoil the fun!"

"You are right, of course," Sah'vo said to his wife. Then to Luke, he said, "My friend, you must simply wait and see."

The meeting hall itself, called the Clan Saht Chamber, was a somewhat less elaborate version than the Chamber of Councils, though about the same size. There were two guards standing on either side of a door at the staging area, but they seemed to be there for ceremonial purposes. Luke had wondered wryly for a second whether he would have to take another oath to enter, but no one asked him to. Apparently no one else was taking an oath, either. Clan Saht members simply filed in as sentients anywhere might file into a sporting event or theatre. Given the level of attendance, Clan Saht meetings were apparently popular events.

The staging area held a rather long conference table, with places facing the audience. A tone much like the one of the Chamber of Councils sounded, and all talking ceased. A door to the rear of the staging area–––the only door, in fact–––opened, and the blue-and-red robed leaders of Clan Saht filed in and took their places at the table. Sah'det took the center seat, and called the meeting to order.

The meeting began with a unison recitation by the council members, of a short pledge that stated they were working toward the common good of Clan Saht and Sarcopia. Apparently the pledge had the same sort of function as the oath that the prime elders took when they entered the Chamber of Councils. The Clan Saht Council meeting consisted of the usual sort of politics, mostly having to do with budget approvals and purchasing decisions, buying this, putting off that, making do with the other. There was a personnel hiring recommendation that passed with unanimous approval, a few announcements about sub-committee meetings, a few sub-committee reports, planning for a territory celebration of an upcoming holiday called "The Day of Convening"–––nothing that was out of the ordinary for politics on any world. It was the sort of thing that Han usually hated, but Luke didn't mind so much. It was a lot nicer to listen to everyday governing issues than to a battle briefing. The only thing worrisome to Luke was the sentencing of this "thief" Sah'vo had mentioned, and Sah'vo's and Sah'ren's apparent pleasure from the thought of it.

At length, Sah'vo's uncle sat back in his chair. "That concludes business matters. Now there is another issue which we must discuss."

Sah'ren made a fist and used it to tap Sah'vo's leg lightly. Sah'vo grinned back at her, then tapped Luke's chest with the back of his hand to signal that this was the moment they'd been waiting for. Luke scanned the audience, which was roughly the same size as that of the Chamber of Councils, but much less formally dressed. All he got was a general sense of good-humor. He sat back and tried to relax.

"There is a thief," Sah'det went on, "who has taken without permission an item belonging to one of our clan. She came to me self-confessed. We must decide upon an appropriate punishment for her. I have asked that she appear before us now to relate those details. She has brought to stand with her, her parents, and a sub-elder of Clan Pahrn, chosen by Elder Pahr'lin to represent Clan Pahrn interests in this matter. I ask now that the prisoner be brought before us."

That was the cue for the guards, dressed in Clan Saht blue and red, to turn and open the door they had been standing on either side of. When they did that, a young woman, dressed in a prison outfit like Brenna's, but in the Clan Saht blue and red, entered the staging area. She was wearing a token badge of a pale pink and dark maroon.

She seemed to Luke to be not the least repentant, but contrite. And if she was dressed in Clan Saht prisoner garb, she had also had her hair elaborately arranged for the occasion, as for a formal dance.

This was very interesting.

After the two guards closed behind the woman and began following her to center stage, three other Sarcopians, this time dressed in ceremonial pink and maroon outfits, followed behind in a triangle formation. The point was taken by an older woman, not as aged as Tah'at or Sah'vo's uncle, but whose presence commanded respect nonetheless. The flank positions were taken by a man and a woman, who from their age and resemblance to the prisoner, must have been her parents.

The procession went towards center-stage, passed in front of the elders' table, and stopped just before reaching Elder Sah'det's place. The woman remained facing half towards Sah'det, and half towards the audience.

Sah'det cleared his throat, and then spoke. "Pahrn Leval, known as Pahr'val, you came to me some days ago and made confession. Is that not so?"

"I did, Elder Sah'det," acknowledged the woman in a clear voice.

"Will you tell everyone here, please, the nature of this confession, and the circumstances surrounding the event in question?"

"Elder, I will. For the past eight years, I have worked in Clan Saht territory as a medical equipment repair specialist. I had cause to come to know a son of Clan Saht, a medical technician by trade. I knew him professionally, and came to respect his knowledge of the use of the devices which I repaired and maintained. I came to desire to know him on a...more personal basis, as well as a professional one. One day, I expressed this desire to him, and was pleased when he expressed a similar desire towards me. I came to desire the company of this son of Clan Saht more and more. Yet, as he is a son of Clan Saht, and I am a daughter of Clan Pahrn, I knew that marriage would be impossible. I also knew that my own clan might call for my return at any time. I therefore desired a keepsake, a thing of his which I could keep near me forever to remind me of him. I knew from his conversations with me that he and his house-clan were planning a celebration away from their dwelling one day, and on that day, I entered the dwelling and took a thing of his for a keepsake."

"Show us this thing you took," Sah'det said. The woman turned, passed through her retinue of guards and family, which followed, went back to the door, opened it, then reached inside to pick up something. It was hard to see what she had retrieved because of the shield of family and guards–––all of which looked like planned choreography–––until the group moved back and she passed through them to return to her original spot.

She was holding a very large, very stuffed, child's toy. To Luke it looked sort of like a cross between a bantha and a mortu. It was hideous–––in the non-frightening sort of way that children everywhere adored.

When the thing was revealed, the Clan Saht hall erupted with laughter. Even the "thief" was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

Next to Luke, Sah'vo was practically falling off his chair. He wiped his eyes with one hand, then reached with the other for Sah'ren's ready clasp.

Sah'det also had to wipe the tears from his eyes before he could speak again. "That," he pronounced, "is the ugliest plaything ever I have seen. Yet thievery is a very serious business. We must decide on a punishment suitable for her crime. I would ask now for Pahr'val's parents to speak on what manner of child she has been."

The mother stepped forward. "Elders and members of Clan Saht, Pahr'val has been ever a troublesome child. Why, when she was seven, she went tree climbing, and went up so high, she became too afraid to get down again. I had to ask Clan Pahrn emergency workers to remove her from the tree."

There was a small amount of laughter rippling throughout the Council Chamber at that.

The father stepped forward. "When she was ten," the father said, "she desired a pet dar-hog. She would not cease asking for one. Finally, my wife and I allowed her to have one, on the condition that it remain outside in a pen. Yet what did she do when she thought everyone was abed, but go outside and retrieve the smelly thing, and take it back to her room with her, and encourage it to sleep next to her on the bed?"

More laughter.

"Most recently," the mother said, "she told me of her desire to steal this plaything. Against my advice, she went ahead and took it anyway."

Sah'det asked, "What, exactly, did you advise her?"

The mother looked a little sheepish. "I advised her to take something smaller."

"And _I_ advised her," said the father, "to take something of more value."

This caused a roar of laughter that took a minute or more to dissipate. When the hall had gotten quiet enough to hear the sound system again, Sah'det said, "Fellow clansmembers, it is clear that the thief must be punished. _How_ she should be punished is another matter. This is a very serious offense, but the item stolen is so…so ugly, that I cannot help but think that the plaything itself should be the punishment. I suggest that as her punishment, we have her keep the thing in some location where she must see it every day, for the rest of her days, and send her back to her clan. Shall we?"

At this, a young man sitting in the front row jumped up and said, in a loud, clear voice, "Elder, I must object! The stolen plaything was mine, and I wish its return. It was my favorite!"

This was cause for more chuckling among the audience, but the young man did not seem to mind. He was, in fact, grinning from ear to ear.

Sah'det smiled towards the young man. "Ah. The Council recognizes Sah'ken, of the Third House of Clan Saht. What say you, Sah'ken? Shall we put her to death for stealing your plaything?"

"Elders," said the young man, "it is clear to me that Pahr'val is a thief only because of the way she was raised. Why, have we not just heard her parents testify that they advised her to steal something small, which would be less likely to be missed, or to steal something of more worth? She is self-confessed. Does that not count for somewhat?"

"What would you suggest, Sah'ken?" Sah'det asked.

"I would suggest that she be taken from her clan, since they are obviously such a bad influence on her, and conditioned to the ways of a more honorable clan, as Clan Saht is."

On the stage, the young woman's parents were shaking from mirth.

The young man went on. "Elder, I have come to know Pahr'val, and I do not believe she is irredeemable. But I do not wish to part with my plaything. I would suggest that as her punishment, she be required to see, not the plaything, but its owner, every day, for the rest of her days."

"Hmmm," said Sah'det, "I do not see how such a thing would be managed. It would place a great burden on you, with little or no return. I am inclined toward the Death Sentence."

"Elder, for some time now, I have been thinking of taking a wife. And I confess that I find Pahr'val to be…not unattractive. I would take it upon myself to condition her to the ways of a more honorable clan, if she were made a member of Clan Saht through marriage to myself."

Luke, by now finally realizing that this was something akin to a public announcement of intent to marry, allowed himself to enjoy the show.

Sah'det rested his cheek on his fist and gave the young man a look of long-suffering. "It would be a whole lot easier just to put her to death," he said, which caused more laughter throughout the Council.

"Perhaps," said the younger man, "but I _am_ desirous of a wife, and I would suggest that her punishment fit the crime, which was motivated by her desire to be with me."

"Very well," said Sah'det. Then he lifted his gaze to the rest of the Chamber. What say you? Shall we give the girl a life-long sentence, make her a member of Clan Saht, and force her to marry our son Sah'ken? I ask you to vote now."

The board behind Sah'det lit up with white lights, which signaled a "Yes" vote.

Sah'det stood and walked around his desk to where the young woman was standing. With great ceremony, he held out his hand. The girl kissed her mother, then her father. Then she removed her maroon and pink token badge, and placed it in Sah'det's hand. Sah'det turned to place this in the hand of the girl's elder, then held out his other hand, which contained the blue and red badge of Clan Saht. "Pahrn Leval, you are now Saht Level. Henceforth, you shall be known not as 'Pahr'val' but as 'Sah'val.' You are now the legal wife of this son of Clan Saht, Saht Sekan by name, known as Sah'ken. You will remain married to him until and unless this Council decides otherwise."

So, this was not an announcement of _intent_ to marry, but the actual wedding itself. Interesting.

The young man clambered up on the stage and kissed his new wife.

The young woman's former clan Eldress stepped forward. "Clan Saht," she said, "The Clan Pahrn thanks you for sparing our former daughter's life. Yet we would see the influence this young man can have on one so troublesome. We ask that Sah'val be allowed to return to her birth-clan from time to time, so that we may see for ourselves how she has improved. If you will do this, the Clan Pahrn will show its gratitude by offering refreshment to all present."

"So be it," said Sah'det. He hit his gavel. The chime sounded, and lights flashed. "This Council is concluded. Now…let's party!"

The reception was pretty tame by off-world standards, although it was fairly well crowded. Since Luke was the elder of his clan, Sah'vo advised Luke to pay his respects to the bride and groom, as the elders of each of the houses of Clan Saht were doing. Sah'det supplied the introduction, Luke congratulated the couple, and the couple declared that they were pleased he attended the "sentencing."

Luke waited patiently while Sah'vo and Sah'ren visited with their fellow clanspeople. Every once in a while, he sipped at the same glass of punch that an attendant with a pink and maroon badge handed him when he first walked in the door. He declined offers of hors d' oeuvres and food tidbits that servers with Clan Pahrn token badges occasionally made, and chatted politely with various people that Sah'vo introduced him to. He was glad that none of them asked about anything related to the Clan Tahl or Brenna or his misleading the Chamber of Councils or anything more important than how weddings were conducted Offworld. In turn, Luke learned that the rather unique Sarcopian version of weddings had its roots from the time of someone named 'Bohl'mis' and 'the Age of Coming.' Apparently the Great Council had just been established, but many of the clans still were not getting along. Enter a beautiful young woman from a poor clan who was convicted of stealing food from the household of a wealthy clan's elder to feed her starving family. The clan elder took advantage of the opportunity to acquire a servant, and the young woman was forced to work as a slave. Enter the elder's son, who thought the treatment of the girl was too harsh and tried to convince his elder father to let the girl return to her clan. The father refused. The boy went to the girl and offered to help her escape back to her clan. She refused, fearing a renewal of the clan wars. The boy then got the bright idea of stealing something from _her_ clan, which he did so openly that he naturally got caught, which was what he intended. The father tried to use his influence and his wealth to keep the newly formed Great Council from convicting the boy. But then Bohl'mis, the great leader who had brought the Great Council together, gave an impassioned speech that caused the boy to be convicted despite the father's efforts. Then Bohl'mis went to the boy's father and warned him that while _his_ clan might make use of convicted thieves as cheap labor, the poorer clan had more laborers than it needed, and more mouths than it could feed. Since the theft of even the smallest item, had it not been recovered, would have had a much greater impact on the poor clan than a loaf of bread had on the more wealthy clan, and since the wealthier clan had set such a harsh precedent, it was possible that the poor clan would put the boy to death. The elder took the hint and let the girl go. And, following suit, the poor clan let the boy go.

But that was not the end of the story. Apparently, by this time, the boy and girl were so impressed by the actions of the other–––he by her remaining a slave to avoid a resurgence of the clan wars, and she by his courage of facing her clan's punishment to save her–––‑that they fell in love. Since the boy's father opposed the match, the boy ended up giving up the wealth and privileges of his birth-clan to join the girl's clan, and they lived happily ever after. Eventually, even the boy's father came around, and agreements between the two clans were made that benefited all involved.

It was a nice story–––a Sarcopian fairy-tale, possibly the only one they had, but Luke couldn't know for sure. Judging by the reactions of Sah'vo and Sah'ren and all the other people present, it was the Sarcopian equivalent of "high romance." But Luke had a soft spot for fairy tales and romances. And, as Luke pointed out to Sah'vo later, it only served to prove one of his points: had the boy's father not been threatened by the girl's clan's ability to punish his own son, he would not have let the girl go. Had the boy not given the girl's clan a form of power over the wealthy clan, the outcome would have been different. Luke pointed out that in Brenna's case, there was no form of power he could hold over the Clan Tahl to ensure her fair treatment.

Sah'vo chewed on that for a while, then decided that the wedding story was from the era when Sarcopia was just beginning to become civilized, and Sarcopia had come a long way since then. Also, since the Clan Saht was taking an interest in Luke and his daughter, the analogy didn't apply in any case.

Luke replied that he hoped Sah'vo was right, but he didn't think that putting Brenna through the painstick ordeal was much indicative of a "civilized" society.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Ten**

Brenna listened to the stories about Tah'cher. Some were touching, some were humorous, and some were...just memories. She thanked each storyteller - son, daughter, grandchild, friend - at the end, and reiterated how sorry she was. Sometimes, when she was alone, she cried. And sometimes, after crying, she slept.

The sound of the gate to her cell opening woke Brenna up. When she saw who it was, she rose quickly to her feet. Tah'at waved to the guard not to bother closing the door. Brenna wasn't going anywhere.

"Good morning," said the Eldress as she hobbled to the cot and sat down.

"Good morning, Eldress Tah'at," Brenna replied, then asked, a little hesitantly, "Have you come to tell me another story?"

The old woman opened her eyes and looked at Brenna. "No. No more stories."

Brenna nodded slowly. "Then you've come to tell me the next part of my punishment."

The old woman cleared her throat. "As a matter of fact," she said, "I have."

Brenna took a deep breath. "Tell me," she said.

The old woman's mouth curled up in a tiny smile. "You have courage, child. I grant you that."

"Not as much as my father."

"No. More, perhaps. You had the courage to tell the truth when he did not."

"I didn't have the courage to save Tah-cher."

"You have already admitted your fear, under oath."

Brenna was silent, wishing mutely that the Eldress would just get on with the business at hand.

"Do not, however, mistake 'courage' for 'fearlessness'," Tah'at told her. "To have no fears is to be dead. Courage is the ability to do what you know is right, despite your fears."

Brenna considered the idea. But what would have been right, would have been to save Tah'cher. "Well," she said, "what was it you came to tell me?"

Tah'at struggled back to her feet. Brenna started to help her, but Tah'at waved the younger woman off. Once on her feet, she was no longer Tah'at, but the Eldress of the Clan Tahl. "Stand, and hear your sentence," Tah'at commanded.

Brenna straightened to attention.

Tah'at said, "You have been given three tasks to be completed before your final sentence is pronounced. The first you have already completed. You have listened to the stories of Tah'cher told by those who knew him best. Now it is time for me to name your second task. We have talked a little of courage this day. And fear. You fear the punishment of the Clan Tahl. That is wise. The Clan Tahl is most thorough in its justice. You have admitted to your fear at the time of my husband's death. It is good that you should do so, for pretending that you had none would be a lie. You fear many things, some more than others. Yet you have also demonstrated some measure of courage, in coming here to Sarcopia, and again in accepting the touch of Clan Tahl in your father's stead. The Clan Tahl would now know if you have the courage to face your deepest fears."

Brenna put on her most expressionless mask. "What must I do?" she asked tonelessly.

"What is it that you fear most?" Tah'at asked. "What is the single fear that ties all your other fears together?"

Brenna's mask slipped, just a little. She looked at the old woman and whispered, "Death?"

"For some, yes. But not for you. You fear death, but you have faced it. I think that you would rather face death than what you are truly afraid of."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you know?"

Brenna kept her eyes forward. "As you say, I have many fears. I'm not sure to which one you refer."

Tah'at smiled. "Being seen for what you truly are."

Brenna stiffened. "I've been honest with you. If you doubt that, you can give me the water of truth again, and–––"

Tah'at waved her silent. "It is not your words we doubt, but your character. Sarcopians do not hide behind false names or deny their clans. Why do you? Even before Tah'cher's death, you disassociated yourself from your clan. Have you been so wronged by your clan that you must despise it?"

When Brenna realized that it was not a rhetorical question but one she was expected to answer, she said, "No. My father has never wronged me."

"Has he not? One of you must have wronged the other, or you would not refuse kinship with him, and if it was not he, then it must be _you_."

Tah'at paused for a moment, studying Brenna.

Then she went on. "You were raised by your father, yet you said at your trial that you have never used the name 'Skywalker' as your clan name. In fact, you gave several clan names: Brellis, Owens, Snowe–––none of which tells who you are. Where did these names come from?"

"My...father invented the name 'Owens.' He gave it to both himself and to me when he took me to Tatooine, when I was just a child. I've gone by that name the longest. But when Etan Lippa tracked us to Tatooine, I had to change it. That was about the time I found out who my father actually was. But I couldn't use 'Skywalker,' of course, so I rearranged the letters of the name I used before. At the Academy, I was known as 'Brenna Snowe.' In the meantime, I had found my birth-record, and learned that my legal surname was actually 'Brellis,' and that my parents had never actually married. My father said they didn't need a piece of paper to tell them they were married. When Etan made me the administrator of Croyus Four, it just seemed appropriate to use the name 'Brellis.'"

Tah'at expression became very dark. "You are not the original administrator of Croyus Four."

"No, but I was named for her."

Tah'at frowned, not understanding why any parent would want to name a child after a notorious killer. But that was not Brenna's fault, and since it was not, it was irrelevant to the matter at hand. "So many names...why did you not take your husband's clan name when you married?"

"It wasn't...who I was."

"I see. And who you are has nothing to do with your clan? Well, I thank you for your honesty, but it does not change your task. A name, after all, is only a name. But you have denied allegiance to any clan, which is a more serious matter. Part of what defines us–––of who we are–––is our relationship with those to whom we are closest. Yet you would deny your father, deny your husband, even your child. Why?"

"Because...I'm not like them."

"No, you are not like them. You are unworthy to be part of their clan. Why? What is it that makes you so unworthy? Do you even know?"

Brenna was confused. She wasn't sure what the old woman was driving at. She was unworthy because she wasn't good enough. It was as simple as that. Circular reasoning be damned, it was the truth.

Tah'at went on. "Your second task requires you to face you unworthiness. The Clan Tahl believes that you have a secret. A secret that prevents you from taking a proper clan name, or from allying with any clan of honor. Your secret has nothing to do with Tah'cher's death. That secret is not dark enough to prevent you from claiming your clan allegiance, because your father and others would not abandon you when they learned of it. No, there must be some other secret, one which if your father and your husband knew, would cause them to hate you. You _must_ have one, otherwise you would not refuse either your born clan, or your married clan. But it may be that you have never put this secret into words. Your next task requires you to do so, to face both your secret, and your fears."

"What do you mean?" Brenna asked nervously.

Eldress Tah'at hobbled to the cell door, then turned back. "For your second task, there are two parts. First, you must simply...think to yourself...'what is the worst secret about myself that, if my father and husband knew, would cause them to hate me.' For the second part, you must put into words any questions that, if your father answered truthfully, you would most fear the answers. Do not tell me your secret or your questions. The Clan Tahl cares little what they are, only that you have them. But remember: if you do not complete this task, if you do not put your secret and your questions into words, there will be a penalty. And you have been told what that penalty will be."

Brenna shuddered, remembering.

And remembered, too, that should she fail, her father would be given the chance to take her place, as she had taken his.

That must never happen.

This time, when Tah'at's messenger asked Luke to return to the Clan Tahl Complex, the message also asked that Sah'vo accompany him. However, they were separated as soon as they arrived. Luke was taken to the same room he had been taken to before his trip to the city. He knew it was the same room because they led him through the same hallways to get there. But the furniture was different. This time, there was no table or high-backed chair. This time, there was a cushioned easy chair in the room, and nothing else.

Luke had no idea where Sah'vo had been taken, or even why Sah'vo was there.

Luke studiously avoided the chair, and stood at parade-rest until Tah'at arrived, and remained so even after she entered the room. He would not acknowledge her authority by snapping to attention, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him in a less than military bearing, either.

"I am sure," Tah'at said, "that your customs advisor has already informed you that our punishments are usually accompanied by lessons. If there is no lesson, the punishment usually ends in death. You were brought here today for the final part of your punishment. For a Sarcopian, this part would be the worst, worse even than the pain-sticks. You may yet avoid it, if you can tell me the lesson that Clan Tahl wished for you to learn. What have you learned?"

There was nothing like a little pressure to get the mind working. "Well, you can be sure I'll never perpetuate a lie within your Chamber of Councils again," Luke asserted.

"Naturally," Tah'at replied dryly, "since it is highly unlikely you will ever be allowed _in_ the Chamber of Councils again. But if that is the only thing you've learned, then perhaps my clan should reconsider its decision to allow you to live."

"Oh, don't do that," Luke said. "Let's see. Umm...I've learned not to break my oath."

"No," said Tah'at. "That, I do not believe. I believe that you would still break any oath you might make, given the right circumstances. We have never thought that we could change that about you, which is why some in my clan would have had you put to death. Try again. And this time, be truthful."

Luke met her gaze. "I've learned that Brenna's word is worth more than mine."

"That is true," said Tah'at. "But this you knew before."

Luke wracked his brain to try to figure out what it was that Tah'at wanted, but couldn't come up with anything. He wasn't even sure that he _had_ learned anything. He hadn't even changed his opinion of the Sarcopian system, except in one small matter. Was that it? "I've learned that life on Sarcopia isn't too bad if you're born on Sarcopia and raised to its values." Then an afterthought struck him, and he added, "And protected by its system."

"Again, true. But that was a secondary lesson, not the primary one. Of great importance to a Sarcopian, but of minor importance to an Outsider."

"Okay. Do you want me to repeat the school lesson on 'the needs of the soul'?"

"I'm certain you could do it word for word. But that was also a secondary lesson."

"How 'bout a clue?"

"Very well. The lesson you were to learn has nothing to do with honor, or oaths, or anything of that sort. But it is central to our philosophy. There are two things a clan must have to survive. The first of these you have already. It is love. If that had been lacking, then even _I_ would have insisted upon the death sentence for you. But the irony is, if that had been lacking, I doubt you would ever have come to Sarcopia, and you would never have entered the Chamber of Councils, and would not now be at the mercy of Clan Tahl. But because you love your daughter, and because she loves you, I have hope yet for you and your clan. It is, however, the second thing which your clan lacks. This thing must be achieved, not within the Chamber of Councils, but within the clan itself, and it is the responsibility of the elder to see that it is maintained, the responsibility of the parent to pass it to the child. Without this, a clan cannot stand. Have you still no idea what it is that your clan lacks?"

"Don't go judging my clan by Sarcopian standards. We do pretty well by off-world standards."

"Do you indeed?" Tah'at said dryly. "If the off-world version of 'doing well' describes the relationship between you and your daughter, then I am truly blessed to be Sarcopian, and outsiders are even more unhappy than I have believed." She sighed. "Well, it seems there is no way to avoid this unpleasant business. And in truth, I did not think there would be." She indicated the chair. "Sit."

Luke raised his eyebrows, but immediately took the seat. "I thought this was against the rules."

"Necessity requires it," she told him.

Luke lounged back with his hands behind his head. "Not bad. A little soft for Clan Tahl tastes, perhaps, but comfortable enough for the likes of me."

Tah'at sighed.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Luke asked with assumed levity. "Splinters under the fingernails? Or maybe some dental work, minus the pain blockers, of course. I transcend dental medication, you know."

"You would be wise to remember your manners."

"According to you, I have none."

Tah'at shook her head. "And you continue to prove me correct." She sighed again. "I told you that for a Sarcopian, this punishment would be worse than the pain-staffs. Yet you, I think, will find the sentence easier to bear."

"Oh?"

Eldress Tah'at drew herself to her full height. "Elder Skywalker, it is time for the Clan Tahl to administer your final sentence. For your evasion of truth, you will be given truth. For the lies you have told, you will be given the water of truth and be asked any questions we wish to ask through an Inquisitor of our own choosing. You will experience the shame of not being able to answer of your own volition, and you will be unable to answer anything but the truth."

"I don't–––" Luke began.

"Silence! I have not finished. In a few minutes, your daughter will brought to you. She will try her best to make you hate her. Who knows, but that she might succeed. Either way, there will be no more lies between you." Eldress Tah'at rapped on the door once. It opened, and a guard ushered Sah'vo inside before closing the door again. "Here is a witness, who will observe but not interfere, to testify that the sentence has been carried out. You have corrupted him, with your doubts and your lies, and he is here to learn whether the ways of the Outsiders are truly better than our ways. He has given his word not to speak for the duration of the sentence, and to repeat no word of what is said here today."

Luke looked at Sah'vo with a question in his eyes. Sah'vo shrugged helplessly, having been forbidden to speak.

Tah'at rapped on the door again. It opened once more, and this time, it was Brenna who was ushered inside. The old woman turned her attention from the father to the daughter.

Brenna saw her father, and then looked up at the Eldress, and in the same instant forged a terrified realization of what would be asked of her.

"Brenna Brellis of Clan Skywalker," said Tah'at, "you should have completed your second task by now. This task was twofold. First, to determine the one secret about yourself, which, if your father and husband knew, would cause them to hate you. Second, to determine the questions to which you most feared the answers. I told you that I would not ask you to reveal to the Clan Tahl either your secret or your questions. That is true. However, for your fear of the truth, for your fear of the answers to your questions, you must now give voice to these things. Your father will be given the water of truth, just as you were given it in the Chamber of Councils. You will then tell him your secret and ask him your questions. And you will hear the answers."

Brenna looked from the old woman back to her father, and Luke could see the fear in her eyes. He drew in a breath. She really _was_ afraid of the answers.

"Eldress Tah'at," Brenna started, "I–––"

"Be quiet. You have not yet been given leave to speak. You have known the touch of Clan Tahl, and suffered it on behalf of your father. If you fail to complete either part of this task, you will know the touch of the Clan Tahl once more, and this time, we _will_ make your father the same offer we made you before, to take your place. I believe I know enough about him to know that, without knowing your secret, he will accept it. Then we will return here, and we will repeat the process, until you have done what we ask. I will know that you have done so, because at the end of the interview, I will enter and ask your father but two questions while he is still influenced by the water of truth. The first question will be: 'Do you believe what your daughter told you to be her worst secret?' The second question will be: 'Do you believe the questions she asked you to be the ones to which she most feared the answers?' Furthermore, we have designated a witness who has sworn silence for the duration of the interview, and will speak no word outside of this room of what is said in here except to say whether or not the sentence has been carried out." She turned to Luke. "Do you still question the judgment or the justice of the Clan Tahl?"

Luke returned the old woman's gaze levelly. "Yes" he replied. "But not in this." To Brenna he said, "Do what she asks, Bren. And have faith."

Eldress Tah'at signaled to one of the guards, who produced a glass of a clear liquid that had the consistency of water and handed it to the old woman. She, in turn, gave it to Luke. Luke drank it as easily as he would a glass of regular water, and handed the glass back to her. He smacked his lips. "A little bitter around the edges perhaps," he pronounced, "but it quenches the thirst."

"I am certain it does," Tah'at replied, without even a hint of a smile. She waited until Luke's eyes became heavy, then turned and strode out of the room. The guards left with her, and the last one closed the door behind him.

Brenna looked at her father, then at the closed door, and then at far wall, but she did not speak. Tah'at hadn't told her she would have to face her father. She wasn't ready for this.

Minutes passed, and still Brenna did not move.

Finally, Sah'vo took a step forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Mistress," he whispered, "I am breaking my oath of silence to urge you to do this, and I will suffer the consequences. But I will not break my oath of truth. When Eldress Tah'at asks me whether you have done this, I must tell her. I implore you, do not make me answer no." He inclined his head in a slight bow, and melted back into the background.

Brenna hesitated, then looked at her father, went over to him, and knelt on the floor next to him. She closed her eyes and touched her forehead to his hand that was hanging over the edge of the armrest as if she thought it might be a last benediction. When she lifted her head, her cheeks were wet, and her eyes were tormented. "I'm sorry, Dad. I have to do this," she whispered. "If I don't...I don't want to think of what they'll do to you. And the truth is...I can't stand your not knowing any longer..."

Luke wanted to tell her again to have faith, but he found that his tongue was too thick, and his vocal cords wouldn't work.

"I'm supposed to tell you a secret," Brenna went on quietly. "Something that if you knew, would cause you to hate me. The worst thing about me that you don't already know..."

Luke tried to fight the drug, but it had taken too strong a hold. He hadn't tried to neutralize it when he first ingested it, and he couldn't beat it off now. He wanted to say something, something that would make her not be afraid, to say that he could never hate her, but he couldn't. All he could do was open and close his mouth like a fish out of water.

"I guess...the worst thing is...I came really close to becoming what Etan wanted me to be. I don't know why. I guess I just...hated school, and...hated you for training Rupert and not me, and...I don't know. It's just that...some of what he was saying made _sense_...I'm sorry, Dad..."

Luke managed to make a gurgling noise, but Brenna didn't understand that he was trying to talk to her. She took a deep breath and went on. "And...I was scared. Not at first, but...when I found Etan torturing that old man...I got scared. He was the first...real victim I'd ever seen. I know there had to be others, but...until Tah'cher, I...chose to ignore them."

She hesitated, then gave a tiny self-deprecating laugh. "Not very noble behavior for the daughter of a Jedi Knight, is it?" She took a breath, then went on. "When I found Etan with the old man, I didn't know what to do, so I just did the first thing that came into my head. I know you think what I did was euthanasia, but it wasn't. It was fear. I couldn't think of anything else to do, and here was this old man in so much pain he'd rather die than go through any more. I'm sorry I wasn't better, that I wasn't as good...as I should have been...that I was weak..."

Her father wanted to scream. All he got out was a grunt.

"I know how much of a disappointment I must be to you. I'm sorry..."

Luke gave up for a second, then make another attempt. Perhaps if he focused on just a couple of words and put all his efforts into them, he could form them. "Naaahhhht," he accomplished.

Brenna frowned. "I don't understand."

"Dissss..." Luke went on.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I don't–––"

"Poy..."

Brenna suddenly felt Sah'vo's hand on her shoulder, and heard his voice whispering in her ear. "He can only answer questions. He cannot speak unless you give him leave, just as you could not when you took the water of truth..."

Brenna looked at Sah'vo, and he nodded at Luke before stepping away again.

Then she looked at her father, bit her lip for a second, and said, finally, "What...do you want to say?"

Luke sagged against the chair in relief. "Not disappointed, Bren. Proud of you..."

She frowned. "Dad, I don't think you're getting what I'm trying to tell you. I almost turned to the Dark Side. I almost became Brenna Brellis, the _other_ Brenna Brellis. I wanted to show you and everyone else that I could become...somebody important, someone to contend with. I wanted you to regret not teaching me. I wanted Rupert–––Hell, I just wanted him to see me as something other than a farm girl from Tatooine. I was more afraid of becoming...nothing...than I was of turning to the Dark Side."

Luke nodded eagerly. He understood all that. It was Brenna who didn't get it. But she hadn't asked him anything, and he couldn't respond vocally.

She took another deep breath. "I'm sorry, Dad. I wasn't strong, like you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

At last, she asked him a question, and his mouth responded willingly. "Think so. But you're wrong." He grinned up at her lopsidedly. "Wrong, wrong, wrong..."

"Wrong, how?" Brenna asked.

Luke tried to remember how she was wrong. Oh, yeah. "You were stronger than I ever was. You didn't turn."

"What?" Brenna asked, not comprehending.

"You didn't turn," Luke responded, grinning again. "Thought about it, maybe, but didn't do it. Not for a minute."

"Are you saying that you _did_?" she asked.

"Yeah." Luke nodded. "Long time ago."

Brenna looked at him in doubt of what she was hearing. "Tell me about it," she said.

It wasn't exactly a question, but it was close enough, and he was feeling chatty. "What's to tell?" Luke said. "I turned. Then I turned back."

Brenna studied him, still not quite believing she had heard correctly. "You're saying...that you once turned to the Dark Side?"

"Thaaaat's _right_!"

She shook her head. She must be hearing things. Then she looked at her father again. "What did you do? While you were on the Dark Side, I mean."

Luke shrugged. "Not much. I lopped off Darth Vader's hand. But it had already been lopped off before. It was just a mechanical hand, like mine."

"What made you turn to the Dark Side?"

Luke waved a vague hand in the air. "The usual. Anger, fear, aggression–––all that stuff Yoda warned me about. I was scared as Hell, and angry at what the Emperor was doing, and wanted nothing more than to throttle him with my bare hands."

Brenna hesitated, but she had to ask. "Is that...how the Emperor died? How you found the courage and the strength to kill him?"

Luke shook his head. "I didn't kill him. Wanted to, but I couldn't..."

"But all the stories say that it was the leader of the Jedi Knights who killed Palpatine, and you were the leader..."

"Nah. He was too powerful for me to touch."

"If you...didn't kill the Emperor, then who did?"

"Darth Vader. My father. Your grandfather. Just picked him up and psssshhhew! Tossed him down the core. Did it to save my life. Killed him, though. Vader, I mean. Anakin Skywalker."

"You're saying...that Darth Vader saved your life?"

"Yup. Turned himself back to the Good side after I lopped off his hand."

Brenna was thoroughly confused. "He turned back to the Good side because you lopped off his hand?"

"No. He turned back to the Good side because I turned back first, and he didn't want to see me die."

"What...made you turn back to the Good side?"

Luke shrugged again. "Just decided I didn't want to be like Vader or the Emperor. Didn't want to be a bad guy. Wasn't what I wanted."

"What _did_ you want?"

"Wanted to get the Hell out of there. Wanted somebody else to step in there and fix everything. Wanted the Alliance to win, and the Emperor to lose..."

"But you stayed."

The question was implied, and Luke found he could answer it. "Couldn't leave," he said. "Stuck…"

Brenna shook her head. "Dad, this is all a bit much for me to absorb right now, but...you _are_ Luke Skywalker, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"The leader of the Jedi Knights?"

"Uh huh."

"The greatest Jedi Knight who ever lived?"

"Hardly." He looked up at her and grinned.

Brenna shook her head. "They must've put something else in that drug they gave you."

"Maybe," Luke assented. He didn't trust Tah'at. "It's possible."

Brenna fell silent, and with no further questions asked of him, Luke found he could not say anything, either.

After a few moments, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Sah'vo standing there again. "Mistress," he whispered, "I assure you that if the Clan Tahl says he has been given the Water of Truth, then that is what he has been given. And when Eldress Tah'at asks me if you have done what you were to do, I can say that you have told your secret. But I cannot yet say that you have asked all your questions. Your father must undoubtedly answer the same."

"Aren't you supposed to not say anything?" she asked.

Sah'vo shrugged. "I have already broken my oath. The Clan Tahl can only punish me once for that offense." He bowed and took a few steps backwards again.

Brenna hesitated. Sah'vo was right. She hadn't yet asked any of her real questions. The ones she'd asked so far had not been part of her punishment, only curiosity. So she turned back to her father. "Is there...anything you don't want to say to me now?" she asked him quietly.

"Yes," Luke answered truthfully.

"What?"

He couldn't help it. She had asked, and the drug had taken his will away. "Sah'vo talks too much," he admitted.

Brenna stole a glance at her witness, who shrugged helplessly. A fleeting smile touched her mouth and gave her the courage to go on. She turned back to her father. "Anything else?"

"No."

"No matter what I ask?"

"No matter what you ask," Luke replied.

"Even if it's about the Jedi, or you, or why you never trained me?"

"Especially that. I want you to ask me about that."

She hesitated again. But he had said that he wanted her to ask, and these _were_ the questions to which she most feared the answers. And...deep inside, she _wanted_ to know the answers. Then, slowly, she said, "Was there ever...when I was growing up...was there ever a time...when you might have trained me."

"I did train you."

She blinked in surprise. "You did? When?"

"When you were very young. Before your mother disappeared and I took you to Tatooine. Both of us trained you. We wanted you to learn how to use the Force."

Her brows furrowed. "I don't remember."

Luke nodded. He understood that. He knew why she couldn't remember.

But Brenna also knew, in part, at least. She'd been afraid to ask, but this was one of her questions. "When...Etan probed me...he said that he wasn't the first. He said he recognized signs that I'd been probed before. He said that my memories had been altered, and that there was only one other person who could have done it. Did you?"

This wasn't exactly the way Luke wanted to answer that question. Doing it had made him feel guilty as sin, even though he'd done it for her sake. He wanted to find some other way of telling her. But now that Brenna had asked, he found he couldn't avoid giving the direct answer. "Yes."

"When?"

"When you were very young. Right before I took you to Tatooine."

"What...memories did you alter?"

"All of them. All of the training your mother and I gave you, all the memories of your mother, of who you were, everything. I erased them."

"You could do that?"

"Yes. You were young, very trusting. It wasn't too difficult."

"Why?"

"Partly...to prevent you from using the Force, to keep Lippa from finding you.. And...partly because I wanted to spare you the grief of losing your mother. I thought she was dead. I thought the reason you kept wanting to search for her, that you kept insisting that she was alive, was because you were in the denial stage of grief. I didn't want you to have to bear the rest. I didn't want you to suffer."

"So you took her away from me?"

"Yes. I'm..." He couldn't finish.

"You're, what?"

"I'm sorry..."

Brenna didn't know what to do with the apology, so she left it hanging in the air. It had been so long ago. She didn't feel anything. She didn't even know whether she should. So she continued. "And afterwards? After you took me to Tatooine? Was there ever a time then when you might have trained me?"

"No," Luke said.

Brenna swallowed, then turned to Sah'vo. "I have no further questions."

Luke struggled to regain some control of his will. He wanted to tell her more, but he could not. His whole body twisted with the effort it cost him, but he managed to say, "Asssssssk...meeeeee... why..."

She turned back to her father. She took a deep breath to steel herself. "I know why," she said, leaving the rest unsaid. She'd known why for a long time, even before Etan Lippa, although at times she hadn't wanted to believe it. She wasn't good enough. She'd always had too many fears, been too easily frightened. It had taken everything she had to confront even the most childish of her fears, her fear of the dark, and she still wasn't entirely comfortable without a lamp.

Luke labored against the drug. He needed to tell her the rest. _She_ needed to hear it, but the drug held him down as if he were in binders. He tried to rise above the mental fog of the drug, but succeeded only in lifting his head. He convulsed with the exertion it cost him. "Aaaaasssk...meeeeee..._whyyyyy_," he repeated.

Brenna saw the contortion in his body, and the strain on his face, and it reminded her of the truths she had wanted to say back in the Chamber of Councils but could not because they had not been asked for directly. "Why?" she said.

Luke relaxed back into his chair. She had asked, and now he could answer. "I was too selfish."

That stunned her. "What do you mean?"

"You were very precocious, caused such strong currents that I thought Etan Lippa might be able to trace you through them. Plus, I was so caught up in my own grief over the loss of your mother that I just wanted to forget everything about our past lives. I couldn't see past the danger of Etan Lippa to realize that training you was the best way to defeat him. I was too blinded by my own desire to protect you to even notice that you were a shield, and a projective shield at that. I didn't even see that you were much stronger with the Force than I ever was. I should have trained you all along."

That gave Brenna pause to think for a moment. She wondered, if he had trained her, would she be stronger than she was now? Less cowardly? She'd be different than she was, certainly, but different, how?

She hesitated in asking the next question. It was one she wanted to ask, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. She had asked it before, back on Elaan's world, and received no real answer. Now she asked it again. "What...would you have done...in my place...when Etan Lippa came for me?"

"I'd have tried to kill him," Luke said simply.

"I couldn't," Brenna admitted.

Luke went on as if she hadn't said anything. He hadn't finished his answer. "But I would have failed."

"Failed?" Brenna asked. It was hard for her to imagine Luke Skywalker failing at anything.

Luke nodded. "You saw, on Croyus Four. If it hadn't been for you, Etan Lippa would have killed me."

"What about...the old man, Elder Tah'cher. Would you have been able to save him?"

"No," Luke admitted.

This took Brenna by surprise. "Why not?"

"I told you. I would have been dead. You can't save someone else when you're dead."

For a moment, hope lit Brenna's eyes. Then it disappeared, replaced again by fear. There was one question left. This was the root of all her fears, and the one question that ever really mattered. "Before I lost my powers...was I ever...good enough to be a Jedi Knight?"

Luke wasn't sure how to answer that. Being a Jedi's Knight had nothing to do with being 'good enough.' But the way she had worded her question could also be interpreted as wanting to know if he would choose her. Realizing that, he found his mouth giving an answer. "You were always Se-he-idth."

"Se-he-idth..." Brenna repeated slowly, running the alien word over her tongue and finding it somehow familiar. Then it dawned on her. "_Sith_?"

Luke nodded. "Sith, yes."

Her father's response struck at the core of her soul, freezing her from the inside out. She was Sith! Her father had called her Sith! She could deal with not being good enough to be a Jedi–––had, in fact, dealt with that knowledge for a long time. But to be one of the Sith! Was she that bad? Her father would not–––_could_ not–––lie to her, not in his present state. "Sweet Deities," she murmured, turning away.

Even drugged, Luke could see that she had misunderstood him. She understood 'Sith' only in the sense that the Emperor had used it, the meaning twisted as the Emperor had twisted everything. She understood 'Sith' only in terms of Darth Vader, Brenna Brellis–––the _other_ Brenna Brellis–––and the other Sith lords. But Brenna didn't know the meaning had been corrupted. He himself had never told her the real meaning. She had learned so much without him, Luke had just assumed she knew this, too. But all she knew about 'Sith' was that it was something evil, dark, and loathsome, and she was ready to perceive herself the same way, ready to believe anything bad about herself.

Luke wanted to tell her that she was mistaken, that she'd misinterpreted what he tried to tell her. He struggled to make the words, but succeeded only in raising his head a few inches out of the chair.

"Mistress..." said a soft voice.

Brenna looked up and followed Sah'vo's gaze back to her father.

Luke was contorted with the effort to get the words out. He managed to say only "Rrrrrr–––" before collapsing back in exhaustion. He took a breath and tried again. "Rrrrrrrr..."

"What is it?" Brenna asked disinterestedly, too hurt by the knowledge that she was Sith to care about much else.

"Wrong," Luke said, then panted from his prior exertion. He drew in a lungful of air and said, "You're wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Se-he-idth. You're _my_ Se-he-idth. Not the Dark Side's."

"_Your_ Se-he-idth?" She didn't understand.

"Yes." Luke nodded.

Brenna was confused. But whatever else her father was trying to say, he had said 'not the Dark Side's.' That knowledge gave her the courage to ask further. "Maybe you'd better explain."

"Se-he-idth. Chosen one."

"Chosen...for what?"

"To live. To succeed me. To carry on in my stead. Se-he-idth."

Brenna frowned. Put like that, Se-he-idth–––Sith!–––didn't sound so bad. But she still wasn't sure how he'd answered her question. She decided to put it to him again. "Just answer 'yes' or 'no,' Dad. Was I ever good enough to be a Jedi?"

It was a somewhat different question from what she had asked before. "You were always Je-he-di, too, Bren."

She puzzled over his response. All she wanted was a straight answer, but all his answer had done was lead to another question. "You said 'Je-he-di,'" she pointed out. "Not 'Jedi.' What's the difference?"

"There is none. 'Je-he-di' is the root. 'Jedi' is how it came to be known in Standard."

"I thought it came from Sorlactin–––'jedi'–––warrior."

"No." He'd made the same mistake. Yoda had set him straight on that one. But Brenna hadn't had a Yoda. "The root is different."

"Tell me about the root." Brenna said, the question coming of its own accord.

Luke nodded. If she wanted to hear it, he was happy to tell it. "The oldest known reference to the 'Je-he-di' is chronicled in the Ts'ikh't'mal. The only copy left in existence is in Yoda's library." He'd wanted to have Artoo scan it, but Yoda didn't like 'droids much. One of these days, he might just return to Dagobah and have Artoo scan it anyway. "The story is that, many millenia ago, before space travel was ever conceived of in most of the known galaxy and all of the planets were in complete isolation, a race of beings called the Whills were the most advanced civilization. They learned the principles of hyperspace long before any other race. But their home planet was falling victim to some natural disaster, and they didn't have enough ships to save everyone. So they had a lottery to choose those who would be saved. The ones who won got to choose who would go, and if you were chosen, you could not refuse. The chosen ones were the Se-he-idth, 'One who is chosen.' The last words of the lottery winners to the Se-he-idth were, 'Je-he-di,' which meant either, 'I love you.' or 'One who loves,' depending upon the context. The Se-he-idth scattered throughout the galaxy, spreading the knowledge, technology, and civilization of their homeworld. It's said that the Force-sensitives across the galaxy are descended from those original chosen Whills. And each time one of the chosen Whills helped someone from another race and was asked 'Why?' the Whill would reply, 'Je-he-di.' Jedi. Meaning, 'I love you.' Or, 'Je-he-di-na-eet'–––'I am sent by the one who loves.' It got translated as 'a Je-he-di's Knight,' and eventually evolved to 'Jedi Knight'. When I came to speak at your trial, the reason was Je-he-di. When you took my punishment for me, you were Je-he-di. When Rupert went to Croyus Four despite the hopelessness of the situation–––"

"–––He was Je-he-di," Brenna finished. She smiled. It was a true, genuine smile, the first one she had made in far too long. "But if he ever tries to do something like that again, I want you to shoot him for me. Not too seriously, but enough to put him in the med-center for a while."

Luke frowned, not sure how to answer that. It wasn't a question, but he wasn't sure it was truth, either.

"Never mind," Brenna told him. "I'll do it myself."

"Je-he-di, Bren," Luke said. It was in part the continuation of his answer to her earlier question, and in part a statement.

She kissed him on the cheek and grasped his hand. "Je-he-di, Dad." She hesitated for a moment, thinking about something else. She had accomplished her tasks, asked the questions for she'd been most afraid of the answers, but there was one more thing she wanted to ask, to which she wanted a truthful answer, and she'd never have this opportunity again. She looked up at Sah'vo, remembering his vow not to speak, but also the fact that he had already broken it, and also that he could only be punished once for the same offence. "Can I ask him something else, something that doesn't really fall into the category of my assignment?"

Sah'vo shrugged. "I will not prevent it," he said.

Brenna sucked in her lower lip for a moment. Luke managed something like an encouraging nod, though it came out as a single head-jerk up, followed by a single head-jerk down. But Brenna knew what he meant. "Okay," she murmured, then drew in a deep breath. If the Clan Tahl decided to punish her, then so be it. She really wanted to know the answer.

But it was none of Sah'vo's business, and she bent close to Luke's ear so that Sah'vo wouldn't overhear. "I've just got one question left. Will you...train little Han in the ways of the Force for me?"

"No," Luke answered.

Brenna was about to ask why not, when her father finished, "But I'll help you and Rupert train him."

She shook her head. "I can't leave until they release me. And I don't feel the Force anymore, remember?"

Luke's face scrunched again as he struggled to give voice to what he wanted to say. "I...don't think...they'll keep you here... forever...and...and..." He couldn't go on much more. He could answer her questions, but that was all. He tried again. "Aaaassssk..."

"What do you want me to ask you?" Brenna said.

Luke relaxed again. It was a question he could answer. "I want you to ask me if I think you'll get your powers back."

That surprised her. But she complied. "Do you think I'll get my powers back?"

Relief poured over Luke. He wanted to tell her before she found out for herself, to reassure her now, when reassurance would do the most good. He had tried to tell her once before, back on Elaan's world, but she'd been too afraid to listen. "Yes," he said.

Brenna frowned. "I don't understand."

It wasn't a question. Luke fought to elaborate. "I...can't..."

Brenna realized the problem. "Why do you think I'll get my powers back?" she asked.

Luke's face recomposed into tranquility. "I don't think you ever lost them."

"What do you mean?"

"I think...you're shielding, and don't even know it. I think you've been shielding ever since Etan Lippa's death, only you've turned it inward, like a mirror. Just like your mother did once. You've closed yourself off."

She considered that. He had hinted that her insensitivity might be only temporary once before, but she hadn't wanted to believe it. Now, the prospect didn't seem so bad. "Dad?" Brenna said.

"Mmmm." he answered. It wasn't really a question, and he was tired. His conscience was finally clear, and Brenna had accomplished her task. He didn't know what else there was to say.

"Assuming you're right about my powers…would you…help me get them back? Train me?"

He opened his eyes and grinned up at her. "Sure, Bren. If you really want me to. But I don't think you really need me..."

"I do," Brenna told him.

"Okay," Luke said. He closed his eyes again.

She kissed him on the top of his head. "Sleep well, Dad. You're going to have a raging headache when you wake up." She turned to Sah'vo. "I'm finished now," she said.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Eleven**

Brenna lay face down on her cot, facing away from the entrance to her cell. Her head, shoulders, and arms protruded over the far end. "Come _on_," she was saying. "Come on, you stupid–––" She stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Focus," she told herself. "Stay focused." She closed her eyes and drew in a calming breath.

"What is she doing?" Tah'at asked the guard quietly, too softly for Brenna to hear. The guard shrugged silently. She'd been acting this way for the better part of the morning.

Brenna's breathing became regular and rhythmical. She opened her eyes again, and stretched her hand toward the floor once more. "All right," she murmured to herself. "This is the last time today. If this doesn't work, I'll try again tomorrow. Stay calm. Stay focused. Now. Come to mama..."

Something must have happened outside of Tah'at's view, because Brenna suddenly jumped to her knees on the cot and exclaimed, "Yes!" while punching both fists into the air to make a "V" for victory with her arms. Then she alternated punching the air above her as she exclaimed, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" She bent back down over the edge of her cot to pick something off the floor, and pressed it to her mouth in a loud kiss. "Mmmm-ahhh!"

Tah'at cleared her throat, and Brenna came back to her senses with a gasp of alarm. She jumped to her feet and faced the door with her fingers closing guiltily around the object she had picked up from the floor, hiding it, as the guard opened the cell door for Tah'at.

The Eldress snapped her fingers and held her hand out, and Brenna reluctantly loosened her fingers and poured her chain and heart into the older woman's hand. "Sorry," Brenna murmured.

Tah'at looked at the necklace, then at Brenna. "You were permitted to keep this trinket as a reminder of clan-ship, not as a plaything."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What were you doing with it?"

"I was...trying to see if I could move it. With my mind, I mean."

"I gather you were able to," the old woman said dryly.

"Yes, a little."

"And you took great pleasure in the doing of it."

Brenna closed her eyes briefly in acknowledgement. "I did," she answered.

"See that you restrain yourself during the remainder of your stay here. This is a place of punishment, not of pleasure."

"I will," Brenna promised. "And...I'll accept whatever consequence your clan feels is appropriate for my misbehavior."

Tah'at closed her fingers around Brenna's necklace. "I will simply keep this until your imprisonment is over. As Eldress of my clan, I am allowed some discretion in matters such as these, and I do not wish to trouble my clan with a matter so trivial when your final sentencing is so near at hand."

Brenna drew herself up. "Are you here to pass sentence, then?"

"I am here to ask questions. After that...we shall see. You will answer the questions I put to you, and otherwise hold your tongue. Is that clear?"

Brenna nodded.

The old woman began pacing slowly inside the cell. "How important is this Center of yours, to you?"

"Very important." A sudden thought struck Brenna. "You're not thinking of closing the center, are you? To punish me, I mean."

"That is not your concern."

"Eldress Tah'at, the Center has become more than my personal dream. There are many besides myself who want to see it opened. And I assure you that, despite what you may think of me, the need for it is great. I beg you, don't–––"

"Silence, girl!" Tah'at commanded. "Have you not promised to answer the questions put to you, and otherwise hold your tongue?"

Brenna bit her lip and fell silent. Tah'at circled around her, studying her from every side, much as she had done with Luke. Brenna said nothing. Finally, Tah'at's mouth crinkled at the edges into the barest hint of a smile. "_Would_ you close it down, if we asked you?"

Brenna thought for a second, then shook her head. "No. The Center's bigger than I am." The thought seemed to give her strength, and as she said the words, a calm came over her.

"Would you resign your position as administrator?"

Another second. Even as she knew what her answer was, the calm never left. She nodded. "Yes," she said. "That I would do."

"And Devon Martuk would run the Center in your stead."

"Yes."

"But you'd like to be there, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would," Brenna admitted. "I'd like to think I could be of some use there."

"Yet you abandoned it. Why leave something you obviously care about very deeply, to come here, knowing that you may never leave? And do not pretend that you came for our sake, or Tah'cher's."

Brenna drew in a ragged breath. "I came...to find peace."

"Have you found it?"

"I don't know. But I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I hadn't come."

The old woman sat down on the cot and studied the younger woman, who still stood at formal attention before her. "Brenna born-Brellis-of-Clan-Skywalker, I have two final questions to ask you. Based on your answers to these, I will know whether you are ready to hear the final sentence of the Clan Tahl."

Brenna looked straight ahead.

"The first question is this: You have heard the stories of Tah'cher. Now, tell me. What have you learned about my husband, about the kind of man he was?"

Brenna thought for a moment. "I've learned...that he was a good man...well-loved by his family and friends..."

"No. What have you learned about _him_. Describe him for me, as if I had never met him..."

Brenna looked away and tried to say something eloquent, but found she couldn't. All she could manage was, "He was...quiet, soft-spoken. He liked...the sea, and children, and...yellow-berry bread..."

The old woman looked into the distance and nodded. "Yes," she said. She smiled a little as she remembered, but her lower lip trembled.

"He liked to take long walks, and...to sit near the fire and listen to music. Except opera. He hated opera–––" Brenna broke off as she heard the old woman's quick intake of breath, and turned to see tears spilling out of the dark, ancient eyes. All traces of Brenna's military bearing fled. She went to the old woman and knelt before her, hiding her face as she begged for forgiveness. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–––"

The old woman took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes, then took a deep breath to compose herself, then commanded, "Look at me." When she saw the tears on Brenna's own face, she used the handkerchief to wipe the younger woman's cheeks as well. "Don't apologize. Go on. What else have you learned about my husband?"

Brenna swallowed and tried to continue, but the lump in her throat made it difficult. "I know...that his favorite color...was blue, and that..." She couldn't finish.

The old woman drew in another breath. "Did you learn...that he loved life? That he loved to laugh? To hear–––" Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. "To hear the sound of laughter?"

Brenna couldn't look at the old woman, but she nodded and managed to get out, "Yes. That, too."

The old woman spoke through tight, cracked lips. "Good." She took another deep breath and said, "Now answer the final question: Why, do you think, have we told you these stories of my husband?"

"I...think it was so that I could better understand your loss, what he meant to you and the others, the consequences of what I did..."

The old woman shook her head firmly. "No. We told you these stories for two reasons. First, you said that your clan was not important. That may be true for most off-worlders, but here, clan is second only to truth in importance. It is clan that defines who we are, that nurtures and protects us." She made a bending motion with her hands. "One twig is easy to break." She mimed holding something thick between her hands and made another bending motion that only moved slightly. "But bind many twigs together, and they become strong. It was clan that gave you the courage to take your father's place, and clan that gave you the strength to stand up again when you thought you could not. Do you understand that?"

Brenna nodded slowly.

"These stories were meant to give you a sense of our clan, the Clan Tahl. Until you heard them, your only knowledge of our clan was of pain and punishment. Do you not see that there is also joy? Every story was a celebration of the man who was Tah'cher. Do you understand that?"

"I think so."

"So...now you know something of the Clan Tahl that you did not know before. And perhaps you have learned something of the importance of your own clan. The second reason for the stories is that you said at the trial that you did not know Tah'cher. We told you these stories so that you could understand him. I won't pretend that you could ever know him as we did, but perhaps now you know him at least a little. You seem to, anyway. It is only if you understand something of Tah'cher that you will understand your final sentence." The old woman handed her the handkerchief and said, "Wipe your face. I can't tell you the rest while you look like that."

Brenna wiped her face and composed herself as best she could, then gave the handkerchief back.

"Now look at me." Eldress Tah'at commanded. "One should always face the consequences of one's acts with open eyes."

Brenna straightened and forced herself to keep her eyes on the ancient Sarcopian.

The old woman studied her. The child was so much like the father. On Sarcopia, they could start a strong clan. "You have endured the physical pain that that was your father's punishment. This was the punishment of the living, for the pain that was given to us when the truth that we hold dear was corrupted by a lie. For sharing your father's punishment, you also shared his lesson, that truth is not something to be feared, but to be embraced. That is why you were ordered to give voice to your worst secret and to ask the questions to which you most feared the answers when your father had taken the water of truth. Did you not learn that the untruths and the not knowing were more frightening than the truth?"

Brenna nodded slowly, never taking her eyes from the old woman.

Tah'at went on. "Now you must endure your own punishment, the punishment of the dead. You came here to seek the forgiveness of the living. Yet we cannot forgive. It is not our place. We grieve, yes, as any clan would grieve for the loss of one such as Tah'cher. But forgiveness is not ours. It is Tah'cher's alone. We can only give voice to what we believe Tah'cher would want, the price of such forgiveness were he able to give it. That is why we told you our stories, so that you would know from them that the sentence we are about to pass is what he would want."

Brenna waited silently as the old woman struggled to her feet and stood before her.

"You were brought here, to this cell, so that when the time came, you would understand your punishment. This is not only a place of punishment, but a place of thought and reflection, free from the distractions of physical comforts. That is why–––" Tah'at grimaced "–––the showers are cold, and the bed is hard." She drew herself to her full height. "I am the Eldress Tah'at of the Clan Tahl. And I was Tah'cher's wife. It falls to me to pronounce the final punishment you must endure. It is this–––"

She paused, and Brenna lifted her chin, waiting the pronouncement.

"You must live the rest of your days as my husband, Tah'cher, would have wished. He loved the sound of laughter, the sound of joy. You must bring to your family the joy he would have brought to us, had he lived. And never doubt that he will be listening. When you laugh, he will be listening, and he will smile. When your child laughs, he will be listening. When, through this Relief Center you wish to be a part of, you save a life or touch it with joy, he will know. Tah'cher knew the importance of hard work, but he also knew that hard work was meaningless without joy, without the love of life. That was his gift to us, and now you must give it, in his stead. The Clan Tahl wishes for you to go in peace. Go back to your Relief Center and to your family. Go, and bring joy where you can."

Brenna blinked. "I–––I don't understand."

"What part of 'go' don't you understand? Go. Leave. Depart. Go back to your father. Back to your husband and child. _Adios_. _Ba' t'het_."

Brenna still wasn't quite sure she had heard right. She looked at the open door, then back at Eldress Tah'at. "I'm...free to leave?"

The old woman sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Why is it that the young are always so stupid?" Then she looked at Brenna and spread an arm to indicate the cell. "Do you think it possible to spread joy and laughter in _here_? Do you think the Clan Tahl would punish you for giving my husband the release he asked for? The only reason you were brought here was to teach you to stop punishing _yourself_. Yes, _leave_. Your father is waiting for you. The guard will escort you." She waved the damp handkerchief in dismissal.

Brenna moved slowly toward the door, in a trance of disbelief. But as she reached the door, the old woman called out, "Child!"

Brenna turned, half expecting her freedom to be revoked.

But the old woman only handed her the heart locket on its chain and said, "Remember that one cannot give what one does not first possess."

Luke paced back and forth in front of the locked gate that separated the prison area from the rest of the world. It was past the time they had given him, but not by much. He'd been told only that he could collect his daughter here, but he hadn't been told in what condition.

Beyond the gate was a hallway and then a door. There was a small clear window placed high in the door, but every time Luke tried to peer into it, he could see nothing.

"Patience, my friend," Sah'vo said.

Luke turned to look at him. "You wouldn't be so patient if it was _your_ daughter in there.

Sah'vo smiled. "No," he agreed. "Probably not. But I–––"

Luke never did learn what Sah'vo would have done, because just then a loud _thunk_ resounded through the entry room, and Luke was at the gate in time to see the top of a sand-colored head through the small window as the door slid open slowly.

Brenna stood revealed behind where the door had been. There were still twenty feet or so and a second barred gate between them, but Luke could see that she was alive and, except for the fact that she still didn't appear to see him yet, seemed well. She was dressed in the clothes she had worn when she first arrived on Sarcopia, and did not move until the guard took her by the arm and escorted her forward a few steps. When the guard left her and returned to the other side of the door, she turned to watch him and did not move again, even when the _thunk_ sounded again and the door closed.

"Bren!" Luke called through the bars.

She slowly faced her father, but she still seemed to be in a daze. Then a dull, metallic _chink_ sounded, and the barred gate started to slide open.

Finally, she seemed to wake up. Before Luke had squeezed through the opening, she was already starting to smile, and she even took a couple of steps toward him as he rushed up to her. By the time they met, her smile was accompanied by a laugh of joy mixed with tears of relief, and she returned his hug tightly.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked, when he finally pulled away enough to look at her.

Brenna nodded and returned his gaze, still smiling.

Luke wiped her wet cheeks with his thumbs, the last remnants of the weight she'd been carrying.

"It's nothing," Brenna said.

Luke hugged her again, and laid his cheek on top of her head. He felt his own eyes moisten in relief, and held onto her for a long, long time.

Finally, he murmured, "Let's go home now."

"Yes," Brenna answered quietly. "Home."

Luke kept both arms around her, not quite willing to let her go yet, and Brenna let her head rest against her father's shoulder. They made their way slowly out of the prison area. Neither one heard the _chink_ of the metal gate closing again behind them.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Justice of Clan Tahl**

**Chapter Twelve**

Outside the Clan Tahl complex, Luke introduced Brenna to Sah'vo, who bowed gravely and said that he was honored to meet her. Brenna smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "We've already met," reminding him of the duty he had done as a witness while Luke was under the Water of Truth. Then her face fell as she remembered what else he had done. "I hope you didn't get into too much trouble for speaking to me while you were under oath."

"Not much," Sah'vo confessed. "In truth, I do not believe that Tah'at was very angry. But I hope it is not blasphemy to admit that I would do it again, under the same circumstances."

"Let's hope you won't have to," Brenna answered, her smile returning.

"You will come back with me to my clan, will you not? It would be my great pleasure to show you more of Sarcopia. There are a great many natural wonders, as well as historical sights. For example, not very far from my own home is the statue of Bohl'mis. He was the great leader of the Age of Coming, who first brought all the clans together to form the Great Council. It is said that he was–––"

Luke glanced at Brenna, who gave her head a slight shake, and interrupted. "Thanks, but no. I think Brenna and I are both anxious to return home and see how my grandson is doing. Not to mention Brenna's husband."

"Yes, yes. Of course. You must miss your clan very much. And I know they must be very worried about you, as well, and wish to see for themselves that you are both alive and well and have come to no harm. But please permit me to transport you to the spaceport. Or is there someplace else you would rather go?"

Luke shook his head. "The spaceport will be fine. Thanks, Sah'vo. You've been a good friend. I'm...sorry for betraying your trust in the Chamber of Councils."

"I have decided to forgive you. You have not had the advantage of being raised here, and besides, you have done me a great service. I do not refer merely to the proving of my innocence years ago. Seeing how unhappy you were when you first arrived, and how happy you and your daughter are now has made me appreciate again how fortunate I am to be of a place where everyone is happy." He paused, then amended, "most of the time, at least."

Luke clapped him on the back and gave him a nudge towards the skyhopper. "I'm happy you're happy. Will you thank your uncle and your clan for me, for the hospitality they have extended?"

"Yes, certainly."

"And thank _you_, for all the help you've given. If there's anything I can ever do to repay you..."

"Once again, my friend, you are mistaken. It is _I_ who remain in _your_ debt. However, if such is my need, I will not hesitate to contact you. I hope that you will not hesitate to do the same if, as they say, the tables are turned the other way. And I hope that you will not wait for such need before returning to visit Clan Saht and Sarcopia again."

On the way to the spaceport, Sah'vo prattled on, telling the story of how Luke had rescued him when Sah'vo had gone off-world to "find himself," and Luke did nothing whenever Brenna glanced at him with shining eyes, except wave a hand and give his head a slight shake. He was too happy to care any more. Sah'vo had the basic facts correct, but embellished more than a bit on the "high honor" Luke deserved for his part in the outcome. Not that Sah'vo would embellish to the point of lying, but his perspective was a little out of proportion. Well, Brenna would find out on her own how stories could be embellished. There would probably be a great many stories about _her_, starting with role as Number One on Croyus Four, and including her stay on Sarcopia.

For now, though, it was enough for Luke just to see Brenna's smile and hear the light, merry laughter that he had not heard from her in far too long.

During the trip, Brenna recounted briefly to Luke the parts he did not already know about her incarceration in the Clan Tahl prison, leaving off most of the details for a later time. Luke was relieved to learn that they had not physically hurt her in any way after her ordeal with the pain-sticks, but he was glad it was over all the same.

When they arrived at the spaceport, Brenna practically skipped down the ramp of the skyhopper. Luke watched her for a moment, then turned to Sah'vo with a smile on his face. "You know," he said, "it's almost worth what they did to her to see her like this."

"But, my friend," Sah'vo replied earnestly, "this is the whole reason behind our punishments. Unless the guilty one is irredeemable, the purpose of the punishment is to wash away the guilt and cleanse the conscience. That is why it is the right of the wronged clan to decide what the punishment should be, because only they can decide what is fitting and equal to the crime."

Luke glanced at Brenna, who was walking along a fence railing as skillfully as a galactically-ranked gymnast might traverse a balance beam. "Could she get in trouble for that?"

"I do not know," Sah'vo answered. "Possibly..."

Without waiting for Sah'vo, Luke turned and strode down the ramp. He went to the fence where Brenna was in danger of losing her balance after having spun around in a full turn on the toes of one foot. She checked herself and recovered her balance before he got there. He offered a hand, and she jumped lightly down and pirouetted under his arm. He felt himself laugh, and heard the sound mingle with her laughter, and it was music.

Sah'vo caught up, and they continued on until they found the _Falcon's_ docking bay. But the access/blast door was sealed and locked. Sah'vo contacted flight-control and was told that the Clan Tahl had given official notice that Brenna was no longer a Clan Tahl prisoner, but no such notification had been made concerning Luke. The Clan Tahl had promised, however, that official word would be given shortly.

While Luke chewed distractedly on all the possible implications of what that might mean, Brenna appeared unconcerned. As Luke paced agitatedly outside the docking bay door, despite Sah'vo's repeated reassurances that it was probably just an oversight which would soon be corrected, Brenna sat down on a nearby bench and waited patiently.

It was only about a quarter of an hour later when Tah'at and another young man came to the docking bay waiting area. Luke recognized the young man as the guard who had accompanied Brenna on the two occasions he had seen her during her term as a Clan Tahl prisoner–––the first time when Brenna had suffered the pain sticks, and the second time when Luke had been given the Water of Truth. The Clan Tahl guard was no longer wearing a uniform, but civilian clothes with only a sea-foam green token badge to identify his clanship. Brenna stood up immediately upon recognizing the pair, not worried, but curious.

Tah'at nodded to her. "Good day to you, Brenna. I am here to see your father before you leave. However, here is my clansman, Tah'evi, who would like to speak with you regarding a personal matter, a request, which you must feel free to refuse. It is a personal request, and none of the Clan Tahl's."

Brenna raised her eyebrows in surprise, but was willing to listen to whatever was about to be asked of her.

Tah'at took Luke's arm and moved away from the pair. At a gesture from Tah'at, Sah'vo withdrew to a discreet distance.

"What's that about?" Luke asked, nodding at Tah'at's clansman.

"Tah'evi is my grandson. He was very close to Tah'cher. Even without hearing the facts of the case, he was for putting Brenna to death, and even asked for the 'privilege,'" Tah'at scrunched her mouth in distaste of that word, "of being one of her executioners."

"What?" Luke asked, and locked his eyes onto the boy immediately, watching for any sign of trouble.

"Oh, have no fear on his account. He is an honorable young man. But he believed that all Outsiders must have little or no honor, and especially one who was guilty of Tah'cher's murder. Your behavior in the Chamber of Councils did not improve his opinion. However, knowing that your daughter had at least some measure of honor, or she would not have contacted us to begin with, I assigned to him the duty of being her one and only guard. Unfortunately, my lesson to him has been learned perhaps a little too well. I believe that he is a little in love with her. At any rate, he wishes to join her Rescue Center. The Clan Tahl has no objections. He will learn soon enough that she has only as much regard for him as for any other young man, and he will not forget that she is already married, and the mother of a child by another. He is young, and it will not be an easy lesson for him to learn, but there are other worthy young women both on Sarcopia and offworld. Perhaps he will even find one at this Center. In the meantime, if Brenna accepts him, he will learn more about Outsiders' ways, and he will either choose to remain offworld, or return to his clan. I ask only that should he decide to return to Sarcopia, he be allowed to do so at the earliest practical time."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Luke promised quickly. "I'll see to it myself."

"I am sure that you will."

Then she changed the subject. "Before I release you from Clan Tahl custody, I must discover whether you have learned what you were to learn. Doubtless your daughter has summarized for you her experiences during her time with the Clan Tahl?"

"She gave me a general idea, anyway."

"And do you still feel that Sarcopians are unjust?"

"I don't object to any of your punishments–––except the pain-sticks."

"Would you have objected if we had done it to you, rather than to her?"

Luke shook his head. "No. I took the oath. I broke it. But I have a problem with any system of 'justice' that allows you to inflict that kind of pain on someone who did _not_ break her oath."

"I would, too, without the asking. That is the only time such a thing has ever been done on Sarcopia, and I doubt that it will ever be done again. If so, then the Clan Tahl may have set a dangerous precedent. In fact, if your friend Sah'vo is any indication, then it may already be so. Yet it was, indeed, the most appropriate punishment we could have devised for you. It would hardly count as punishment if you did not object. And I think you will find it more difficult to break your oaths, in the future."

"Oh, come on. You and I both know why I broke my oath. It was to prevent exactly the sort of thing that you did with the painsticks. If I could have been sure that you would do exactly what you did, but without the painsticks, it would be a different story. You know what I think? I think–––" Luke stopped, realizing that he was starting to tread on dangerous ground. He was still a Clan Tahl prisoner, and Brenna was still on Sarcopia.

"What do you think?" Tah'at pressed.

"I think," Luke said slowly, "that it would be better for me not to tell you what I think."

Tah'at's mouth quirked. "At least you did not lie. Will you tell me what you think, if I promise to release you after?"

"No," Luke said firmly.

"Very well. If I release you first, will you remain here for five minutes, and tell me, in all honesty, what you truly think?"

"I will, if you give me the same honesty."

"Sarcopians are always honest. But it is agreed, then? If I release you, there will be five minutes of perfect candor between us?"

"I give you–––" Luke's mouth quirked in almost a perfect copy of Tah'at's "–––my word."

"Done."

Tah'at raised a com-link to her mouth and spoke into it. "This is Tah'at, Eldress of Clan Tahl. The one called Luke Skywalker, Elder of Clan Skywalker, given to the Clan Tahl by the Chamber of Councils, is a prisoner of Clan Tahl no longer. He is his own man, and may stay on Sarcopia, or leave, as he wishes."

Immediately, the blast doors leading to the docking bay, were opened.

Then Tah'at looked at Luke. "Now, tell me what you really think."

Luke crossed his arms over his chest. "I think that you don't give two hoots about my misleading your Chamber of Councils. I think you understand why I did it, and I think that you would have done much the same if it was your daughter or clanswoman, and a New Republic trial rather than a Sarcopian trial. I think you just used the fact that I was found out as an excuse to get your hands on Brenna and me. You wanted to do to her what you did, with the sanction of your clan, and of every other clan on Sarcopia, because if you punished Brenna for murdering Tah'cher, given the circumstances she was in at the time, they might have objected. I think this was the way you could get revenge for your husband's death without their criticism. Now. Your turn. Am I right?"

Tah'at refused to be intimidated. "Partly. I care very little about your lie within the Chamber of Councils, although it has greatly upset many in my clan, and I cannot ignore them. Perjury within the Chamber of Councils is the worst form of sacrilege. If you were Sarcopian, you _would_ have been put to death. However, as you continually remind me, you are an off-worlder. If it were my decision alone, and if your daughter were not involved, I would simply have shipped you offworld, with the understanding that you would receive the death penalty if you ever returned to Sarcopia. But of course she _is_ involved, and that makes all the difference."

"Exactly my point," Luke told her.

But Tah'at was not finished. "She came here to confess a murder, and to be punished for it. Yet given the circumstances, who can say which of us would not have done the same? My clan might not have punished her at all, except that the most important person in this whole matter would not have been satisfied."

"And who is that?" Luke asked. "You?"

"You think my sole interest in this matter is revenge. It is not. The most important person is your daughter, of course. She would not have been satisfied if we had not used the pain sticks on her. Her conscience was begging for atonement. _She_ came to _us_. We could not turn her away, uncleansed."

Luke was incredulous. "You think that was _helping_ her?"

"Yes," Tah'at said, "I do. Despite the fact that the touch of the clan was _your_ punishment, and not hers. At the time of Tah'cher's death, she was afraid. Who would not be? She believes it was fear that made her end Tah'cher's life. You will say it was compassion, but it does not matter in the least what anyone else says or believes, only Brenna. When she faced the pain sticks, she was again afraid. And again, who would not be? Yet she faced them, so that you would not have to, and also to atone, in her own mind, for what happened to Tah'cher. By allowing her to take your place, we taught her something about herself, and her clan."

"Don't presume to know what's best for my daughter. Civilized societies don't 'help' people by torturing them."

"Sarcopia _is_ a civilized society, more civilized than all your off-world societies put together. You saw for yourself that the doors are not locked, that our people are happy, that we are honest, that there is no 'government assistance' necessary to support those who cannot or will not earn their keep, that there are no internal wars. By every measure of 'civilized,' we are that. Now. Look at your daughter. Look at how she is now, after these few short days with the Clan Tahl, and remember how she was when she came, after months of your doctors and medicines. Answer truthfully: Is she not happy?"

"The thing about beating your head against a brick wall," Luke pronounced, "is that it feels so good when you stop."

"Exactly," Tah'at said, copying Luke's tone earlier, "my point. She was beating her head against a brick wall, and now she has stopped. That, Elder Skywalker, is how the Clan Tahl helps your clanswoman. But she will start punishing herself again, if you do not learn your lesson."

"And what lesson is that?"

"Brenna came to us. That was only right. But she came alone. That was most definitely _not_ right. She would not even acknowledge you as elder of her clan. So I asked myself _why_. I suspected that the reason had more to do with what _you_ had done than with what _she_ had done. And here you were, petitioning to act as Inquisitor. Who knew, but if I gave you enough rope, you might hang yourself, and that is exactly what you did. I simply took advantage of the situation when your own daughter proved your lie. It was, as you said, an 'excuse.' But it was an excuse to punish you for another crime, far worse than the one you committed in the Chamber of Councils. Do you remember the first question you asked of your daughter when she had taken the water of truth?"

"I...asked her if anything she'd said was a lie."

"No. That was your first public question. The first words you _actually_ spoke to her were, 'Brenna, do you trust me?' And her response was, 'No.'"

"You _heard_ that?"

"I heard everything. Do not blame your friend Sah'vo. He did not know. The Clan Tahl provided your communication devices, and explained to him that the mute switch would prevent the whole Council from hearing what was said. So it did. But it did not prevent _me_ from hearing."

"So you lied to Sah'vo!" Luke said, half incredulously, half triumphantly.

"We did not lie. We simply...did not tell him the whole truth."

"Same thing," Luke replied.

"There is as much difference between not telling the whole truth and lying, as there is between telling a lie, and encouraging one to be believed, as you did in the Great Chamber."

"I was still found guilty," Luke reminded her.

"And if you care to stay, you could probably bring me to task," Tah'at informed him, "You could even choose my punishment. But we only have a minute or two left, and I do not wish to waste it on such trivial matters as these. We still have not touched upon the true purpose behind your punishments. For you _were_ punished, and I believe punished most effectively, but that punishment will be meaningless if you do not understand why. And it was not for telling a lie within the Chamber of Councils–––no, never for that!"

"For what, then?"

"It was for what you did to cause your own blood-child to deny clanship with you, and for causing her to answer truthfully that she did not trust you. A far greater crime than lying within the Chamber of Councils is to lie to your own clan! When we made Brenna the offer to take your place, our purpose was not only to punish you, but also to show you that your lies hurt _her_! I will not pretend that I can tell you how to live among Outsiders, but I will tell you that, without integrity, a clan cannot stand. Do you not see that before coming here, Brenna drew away from you at every turn, despite her love for you? You told me yourself, before she had hardly even given her name, that she did not know you were there, at her trial. I saw evidence of your lies again and again, even before you created the lie about her mental state. Yet without your intervention, we would not have heard the whole truth. But even there, your lies had begun to rub off on her, for she would not tell all without your intervention. And yet again, even _you_ did not know the whole truth."

Luke said nothing. He was listening, though.

"You are Brenna's elder. It is the responsibility of the elder to maintain the integrity of the clan. It is unthinkable that you should not have known all beforehand. It is even more unthinkable that you should lie to her! She told me herself that you kept secret her true clan name, and that she had to discover it for herself. Clan is not something one should ever discover by accident. Yet you are a product of the Outsiders' worlds. Clan to you is merely an afterthought. Even in your names. Here, the clan name comes first, before the given name. No wonder your child was so troubled! To not even know who she is? And yet, she has somehow managed to retain a measure of honor, despite her upbringing!"

The old woman had hit a nerve, but Luke was not one to give in easily. "I have never found it easy to lie to my daughter, Tah'at."

"You have found it easier than the alternative, however! Is it any wonder that, before you were given the water of truth, your daughter would not believe you, even when you told the truth? And if you do not learn your lesson, things will return to what they were before your daughter came."

"Your five minutes are about up, so I'll hurry up and say what's on my mind. I admit that Brenna needed to clear her conscience. That's why I brought her here. But you could have helped her without torturing her, if that was truly your intention. And any lies I may have told her, I told to protect her from Etan Lippa, and others like him."

"Could you truly not have protected her without lying to her? You still see only the physical pain we gave. Do you not see the worse pain that your lies have caused? Brenna herself has no 'problem' with the pain sticks. As I said, many in my clan would have had you put to death for your lie within the Chamber of Councils. The touch of Clan Tahl was a light sentence indeed! Brenna has already forgotten the physical pain, but will not soon forget that she bore it for you. She knows that you deserved far worse than the pain staffs, though she might not understand the extent of your objections to what we did. Yet here is an opportunity to practice the more important lesson you should have learned, of maintaining the integrity of your clan, without the necessity of taking the water of truth. Tell her how you feel, about how much of a 'problem' it has been for you."

"How?" Luke demanded. "How can I tell her something like that? How, without lessening what she did?"

Tah'at studied him. "Do you truly believe your suffering to have been worse than hers?"

Luke shook his head. "No. But–––"

Tah'at interrupted. "Then you cannot lessen what she did. Not if you tell her that. What she did was a very great thing. _I_ would not have done it, and I especially would not have done it for _you_. Tell her everything. Tell her how proud you are of her, how your exaggerated pride finds it difficult to accept someone else being the hero, how sorry you are that your mistake was put on her shoulders–––everything! Will you tell her?"

Luke's mouth curled up. "Your five minutes are up. I don't have to answer that."

Tah'at sighed. "I should not be surprised that you would find it impossible to grant more than five minutes of honesty. But I will leave you with a few thoughts. Look at Brenna now, and remember her as she was. The Clan Tahl has given you a second chance. Brenna was the way she was when she first came, because of _you_. Not because of this Etan Lippa, who, as you have said, is the one truly responsible for my husband's death. Brenna is the way she is _now_, because of _us_. Because we traded a brief physical pain for her longer mental anguish, and because we forced you to tell her the truth and thereby restored the integrity of your clan. This change can be permanent, or temporary. That depends on you. Lie to her again, hide the truth from her, and sooner or later, she will find you out. When that happens, she will return to what she was. Brenna will still blame herself for your shortcomings, just as she has done all along. There will be one difference, however. She knows that the Clan Tahl will not punish her further for Tah'cher's death. And consider this: rescue work can be very dangerous. You will learn sooner than you expect that this Center of hers will become much more than a mere 'communications station.' If you continue as you have, she will find other ways of punishing herself. Yet I have hope for you and your clan. We have given you a chance. It is up to you to make the most of it."

"I'll think about what you've said," Luke promised. "Who knows? I might even tell her how I feel, as you suggested."

"I hope you do. Otherwise, it will only prove that we _should_ have put you to death."

"There's just one more question I have."

"As you pointed out," Tah'at said dryly, "your five minutes are up. I am not obligated to answer. But you may ask, of course."

"Will Sah'vo get in trouble for what he did?"

"Do you refer to his breaking his oath of silence when you had taken the Water of Truth, or to his coming to speak with me without the sanction of his clan?"

"Both."

"For the former, he has already been punished. A single touch from a pain staff set at half power–––the Sarcopian equivalent of a slap on the wrist. As for the latter, what has he done, except to doubt? And that he has done in all honesty. We do not punish our children for doubting, so long as they are honest doubts. Yet Sah'vo has received and will continue to receive instruction to address his doubts."

"I have a feeling that this 'instruction' may be worse than punishment."

"You may be right. Yet there is one great secret of Sarcopia, a secret known only to the clan elders. You are the elder of your clan. I will tell it to you, if you give me your word not to repeat it to any, except perhaps to your daughter who is your successor, so long as she agrees to keep the secret, but not to my grandson Tah'evi, and especially not to your friend Sah'vo."

"I don't give a womp-rat's carcass about your secrets."

"But you _are_ curious, aren't you?"

Luke shrugged. "Okay, so I'm a little curious. What the Hell. I give you my word."

"And I trust now that you will keep it. I might not have done so before. Our secret is simply this: it is the ones who doubt that make the best Elders. Sah'det had thought that Sah'vo might be the one to succeed him when Sah'vo went off-world, the time you first met him. Yet Sah'vo has never shown signs of doubting since that time–––until you came here with your daughter. We had thought, perhaps, that his offworld experiences had erased this capacity from him. I suppose we should be grateful to you in some way for showing us that it has not. Sah'vo will now accompany his uncle to the Chamber of Councils. Sah'vo has been told that it is because of his doubts that he must do so. That is true. However, the underlying reason is not quite what Sah'vo believes. Later Sah'vo will be asked to take the place of a sub-elder for some of the less consequential matters. Increasingly, if all goes well, the matters will become more consequential, until Sah'det and his sub-elders feel he is ready to take his place among them. It is our way of grooming Sah'vo to become an elder. He may even replace Sah'det as elder prime."

"You're kidding," Luke said.

"I never 'kid,' as you put it. Do you not think Sah'vo would make a good elder?"

Luke considered. Sah'vo was somewhat naive, but his heart was in the right place. And he was willing to keep an open mind. "I think," Luke said, "that he'd make a better elder than _you_."

"Then he will be very exceptional indeed. I am considered one of the best."

"But not one of the most humble, I take it. I am curious, though, what makes someone like Sah'vo so well-suited? I would imagine that you would want someone who had no doubts at all, who believed that the system was perfect."

"Not at all. The elder must deal with those who doubt, and who better than one who has experienced the same doubts? Moreover, the best elders are those who believe that the system is good, but not perfect, and who are willing to change what needs to be changed. Sah'vo was outspoken enough to come to me on your behalf because he thought it was the right thing to do, however mistaken that belief was, and despite the personal consequences he thought he would incur upon himself. He has demonstrated the courage to do what he feels is right, despite personal risk. We need elders such as he."

"You'll get no argument from me on that point." Luke said. In his experience, it was always the ones who were willing to take personal risks for the sake of higher principles who turned out to be the best leaders.

"But you see, of course, that he cannot know it is his doubts that make him such a good candidate. He will be told, when and if the time is right. And if it turns out that he has not the aptitude after all, well, then, there is no harm done. He will simply be told that his sentence has been served, and he will return to his former position, happy, and none the worse for his experiences."

"How about that?" Luke said sarcastically. "A system that prides itself on its honesty, but can't function without at least one major lie."

"It is not a lie. It is a secret. And there has always been, at least once per generation of elders, a debate within the Council as to whether to make this secret public knowledge. The vote has always been the same. I think the appropriate idiom would be, 'If the system works, don't fix it.'"

"Not quite accurate, but close enough." Now that all the loose ends had been tied up, Luke was ready to leave. He smiled, but did not hold out his hand. "I wish I could say, 'It's been a pleasure.'"

"The feeling is mutual," Tah'at assured him. "However, if you find yourself in readiness to learn a few more lessons, the Clan Tahl will be happy to provide them. You could especially benefit from some instruction in manners."

"No, thanks. I'm not into self-flagellation."

"Really? Given the state in which I found you and your daughter, that statement surprises me." Tah'at folded her arms and continued to stand where she was, as unmoved and unmoveable as Luke had been on the trip to Bahn-Stat City.

Luke turned, drew in a breath and let it out again in something that wasn't really a sigh, and found Sah'vo.

"Come again," Sah'vo said, "but as I said, do not wait for such circumstances as brought you this time."

"Definitely not," Luke replied, resisting the temptation to tell Sah'vo what he knew. "Goodbye, Sah'vo, my friend."

"Goodbye, my friend Luke. You will always be welcome as a guest of the Clan Saht."

They shook hands. The handshake became an embrace, and then Luke went to collect his daughter.

"Well, Tah'evi," Brenna was saying to her Sarcopian guard, "as long as you understand that the Center isn't likely to become much more than a communications sub-station, I won't turn you away. We can use all the volunteer help we can get. Go pack, and say goodbye to your clan. We'll wait for you here."

Tah'evi smiled and picked up the small case he had set on the ground. "I have done so already. But with your permission, I would like to take my leave of my grandmother. It will only take a moment."

"Take as much time as you want," Brenna replied. Luke saw a mischievous twinkle come into Brenna's eyes, and she leaned closer to him and said quietly so that Luke almost couldn't hear, "But if you ever tell anyone you saw me without my clothes on, I'm shipping you right back here on the next available transport."

Luke's eyebrows rose. That was a detail Brenna had left out of the brief recounting she had given. He wanted to hear more about _that_. And he doubted Brenna realized just how much a remark like that was torturing the poor boy. Well, he probably deserved it.

Tah'evi's face fell. "Mistress, you must understand that the customs and rules of my peop–––"

Brenna interrupted him with a wave. "Relax, Tah'evi. I'm teasing." She paused, then said, "I think. Anyway, call me 'Brenna.' If there's nothing else you need to do before we leave, then go say good-bye, and we'll get going." She turned, saw her father. "Dad, this is Tah'evi. He's going with us to Croyus Four, to become a volunteer at the Center."

From the eager expression on Tah'evi's face, Luke suspected that he was more than just "a little in love with her," as Tah'at had phrased it. He suspected Tah'evi might have a full-blown crush. However, he'd tell Brenna about Tah'evi's infatuation at a more appropriate time, when the boy wasn't standing right there. Instead he held out his hand. "Good to have you with us, Tah'evi."

Tah'evi shook hands with Luke. "Thank you, Elder Skywalker. I hope it will be so." He excused himself and went to Tah'at, gave her a brief hug, and was hugged in return. Then he picked up his small case and followed father and daughter up the ramp into the _Millenium Falcon_.

"Have you ever spaced before, Tah'evi?" Brenna asked, once they were inside and all hatches were closed.

He shook his head.

Brenna indicated the passenger cabin, then pointed to the cockpit. "You can make yourself comfortable back here, or join us up front, if you want to see the stars."

Tah'evi politely chose the passenger cabin, figuring father and daughter might have much to talk about. He bowed and took a seat at the round couch by the table, putting his small case on the floor at his feet.

"Don't forget to strap yourself in," Brenna told him, following Luke to the front of the ship.

Launch clearance was given immediately. However, it took an inordinately long time to establish a communications link with Croyus Four, and by the time it was finally connected, Luke had already blasted the _Falcon_ well out of Sarcopian space. He was glad to get the Hell out of there. Brenna, on the other hand, was anxious not so much to leave Sarcopia as to return to Rupert, the baby, and the Center.

Luke could see why communications at the Center was a priority for Brenna. Long-distance com-systems were downright terrible these days. When the link was finally firmed up, Rupert's grinning face appeared on the screen, but there was a good deal of interference. Rupert had little Han propped on his shoulder and was patting the baby's back. It was clear from the grin that Rupert was excited about something. "Hi," he said. "They told me they'd released you."

"Hi, yourself," Brenna returned, smiling. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." At that moment, the baby let out a squall, and Rupert shifted the infant to the other shoulder and began to bounce his son up and down. "So has Han."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing that a bottle and having his mother back won't cure. It's a good thing Sarcopia sent a supply of milk, or we'd have run out of the genuine article by now. He eats like a gondorf."

Brenna started at the knowledge that the milk she had pumped went to feed her own son. Deities, that must have been expensive to transport.

"When will you be here?" Rupert asked, shifting the baby again.

"We're on our way now," Brenna replied.

"Hurry it up, will you?"

Brenna's smile widened to a grin. "I'll see if Dad can't put the thrusters on overload."

"You do that."

Little Han wailed again.

"Sounds like you better give him his dinner."

"I'd rather _you_ gave him his dinner. But you're right. Before I go, though, I just want to say congratulations." He laughed. "You're incredible."

"'Congratulations'?" Brenna echoed in confusion.

"Devon's having spasms. He's going to start twitching on the floor if I don't put you through to him." He blew a kiss into the screen. Brenna pretended to catch it, then pressed her fingertips to her mouth. Rupert juggled the baby with one hand, still laughing, and with the other hand pressed a switch. Instantly the screen dissolved to the Center's main office. Devon was wearing a sloppy grin, the likes of which Brenna had never seen before. There was so much noise and commotion that Devon had to shout to be heard over it. It sounded like there was a party going on.

"Brenna!" Devon yelled. "You're a miracle-worker!"

"What's–––" Brenna stopped as somebody offscreen distracted Devon by pumping his arm up and down. She raised her own voice in response, forgetting that Devon could adjust the volume to any level he chose. "What's going on?!"

"What the Hell do you _think_ is going on? The whole Center's celebrating! How in Deities name did you wrangle a donation this _big_?" Someone else claimed Devon's attention, and once more, the hand was pumped up and down. Someone else thumped Devon on the back, and he grinned up in another direction.

"Donation?" Brenna queried.

"We're gonna have to have some sort of screening process to limit the numbers of volunteers! Otherwise, it's going to be–––" he stopped to return a thumbs-up that someone offscreen had just given him, then laughed and nodded at something someone else said to him that was too far from the microphone to be picked up clearly before looking back at the screen. "Otherwise, it's going to be impossible to stem the flood!"

"What. Kind. Of. Donation?" Brenna asked, enunciating every word separately to be heard over the hubub.

"What do you mean, what kind of donation? The four-hundred-million credit kind, that's what!"

Brenna stared at the screen.

It finally dawned on Devon that this was the first she'd heard about it. "What, didn't your Sarcopian friends tell you? All they want in return is some sort of plaque or brick or something, to say 'in loving memory of–––'"

"'–––of Tahl Bacher.'" Brenna finished.

"That, and a few words to say something to the effect of turning sorrow into joy. I've got the exact phrase written down here, somewhere. They said you could decide where to display it."

"In the lobby of the main building," Brenna decided. "The one we're going to name after him."

"What main building?" Devon asked.

"The one we're going to build," Brenna answered, thinking quickly. "The one right next to the Training Center that we're also going to build. If we're going to turn this Center into something worthwhile, we're going to have to train our volunteers to handle different types of emergencies."

"Whatever you say," Devon said. "With four hundred million credits, I think we can afford it. But hurry back, will you? We've got a lot of planning to do!"

Brenna switched off the link and leaned back in her chair. With four hundred million credits, she really _could_ turn the Center into a rescue facility. For a moment, she considered not accepting the gift. It didn't seem right, accepting the money when she'd gone to Sarcopia to ask for atonement.

But she'd told Tah'at that the Center was bigger than she was. It was more than any one person. And the donation was to the Center, not to _her_.

She smiled.

Then she laughed out loud. Laughed out of pure joy. Her powers were nothing close to they had been before, but they hadn't completely deserted her. She'd gone to Sarcopia to atone for Tah'cher's death and survived. Her father knew her darkest secret, and didn't hate her. He would even retrain her to get her powers back. And now, the Center was actually going to become everything she hoped for.

How long it would last, she didn't know. But for the first time in her life, she was happy. Truly happy.

And most important of all, to the ones she cared most about, she was Je-he-di.

Jedi.


End file.
